


Pangram

by going_down_to_the_riptide



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Multi, No Graphic Sexual Content, One Night Stands, Possessiveness, Psychological Torture, Romance, Torture, Violence, War, also kids come in later chapters, and nishiki/flannel is still the main pairing it's just that things get complicated, everything about them is so great, i can't believe how little nishiki/flannel fics there are out there, i love these two so much, i'll tag more things as they come along, literally the only reason why i would get revelations would be to get them to an A+ support, nothing that will warrant a rating change that is, their designs and character and dynamics are so good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-28 20:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 93,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6343291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/going_down_to_the_riptide/pseuds/going_down_to_the_riptide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN FIRE EMBLEM FATES!  
> Kamui/Corrin will be referred to with they/them/theirs pronouns and is assumed to be genderless. 
> 
> I love this pairing because I'm sinful. I finished Conquest (mostly), and I'm almost done with Birthright. I chose Japanese names after a long debate with myself. That would mean that: 
> 
> Kaden -> Nishiki  
> Keaton -> Flannel  
> Kitsune -> Youko  
> Nine-Tails -> Kyuubi no Youko  
> Wolfskin -> Garou  
> Wolfssenger -> Mánagarm
> 
> Any other characters mentioned will also have their Japanese names.

**Appeasement**

_n. the act of bringing something to its state of satisfaction or peace_

* * *

There were few things that pleased Nishiki as much as his appearance. He was egoistic in that regard of self-care and grooming, and he loved showing himself off. But he was the type of creature that had the right to flaunt off. Much like how a butterfly soars in an erratic pattern, but is forgiven because of its beautiful appearance. Or how a flower is stagnant and ephemeral, but treated so highly because of its beauty.

Unlike flowers _or_ butterflies, however, Nishiki had movement and purpose. His heart, despite its vanity, was large and kind. None of which could be said about those spring time beings, the ones that felt nothing at all but the splendor of the earth around them. Those creatures that tasted _horrible,_ despite their attractive appearance.

Nishiki knew what they tasted like from experience, as much as the memory haunts him. He learned that beauty did not warrant fragility, although this lesson was long since engraved in his mind since youth.

He was an example of how beautiful things could also be deadly, and nothing pleased him more than that.

...

Flannel was pleased by many things. He was the easily amused type, and not one to be so picky with things, save for the fact that his tastes differed greatly from any other person around him. A bird's corpse, broken glass bottle, and discarded orange peels more likely to be treasures to the wolf, instead of jewelry or things of actual human value. Objects like those disinterested Flannel greatly, almost _appalling_ him.

He was like a child when it came to finding garbage or objects of the macabre. He ooh-ed and aah-ed them the same way someone would admire fireworks, even if they were far less radiant. The leftover steak from last night's dinner and a long dead jeweled beetle should not have been things that interested anyone, but Flannel regarded them as trophies of some sort, keeping them in his room like someone would keep a medal.

Flowers and butterflies also proved to be decent trophies, although each time Flannel wanted to eat a moth, Nishiki was there to discourage him from doing so. It was not because Flannel was a pushover ("Because seriously, guys, I'm _not._ "), but because Nishiki's face would scrunch up, like he was remembering a gross nightmare, and that alone would convince the wolf against it.

And nothing brought him more satisfaction than liking the things that others detested, even if the butterflies were so, so pretty.

...

"I can't believe you let the humans pet you like that," Flannel sighed. "Like you're some sort of meat."

"I don't think humans pet _meat,_ " Nishiki insisted. "But I know what you mean. I think it's nice, actually! They also help to straighten out my hair, and it feels really nice, so it's like a win-win!"

"Ha," Flannel laughed. "Ha, ha. I almost pity you, Nishiki. I hate it when I'm treated like their pet."

"Really?" The fox's eyes, sepia colored and long-lashed, shone mischievously. "Is that why your tail wags when people scratch your ears? Didn't Sakura and Elise pet your fur the other day? You looked pretty happy then."

"No, I didn't." The wolf denied. "And also, my tail does _not_ wag on purpose. I-It's a reflex!"

Nishiki smiled, craning his brows in a questioning sort of way. "Oh? So if I decided to do _this_ , for example..."

Before Flannel could protest, he felt Nishiki's hand gently run itself through his hair. His fingers were warm and soft, impeccably clean as each stroke was like a fresh breeze of air weaving itself through Flannel's unruly fur. The motions were not new, but they were familiar. Like the fox had done this countless times before, somehow.

The wolf was almost inclined to bend underneath his palm, and make a noise full of content, before he remembered the point that Nishiki was trying to make. Seeing that his tail was wagging a mile a minute made Flannel burn with humiliation.

He scoffed, and slapped away the other's hand with minimal force.

"Stop that," he admonished. "It's _weird._ "

"You didn't seem to think so, not with the way that you were about to purr! Or whatever noise wolves make," Nishiki teased. "It's nice, right? That's why I love it when people pet my fur. You can pet mine, if you like."

For a moment, Flannel's crimson red eyes flickered with the thought of it, the thought of appeasing the other with such useless petting. But maybe he would see what all the rage is with the youko's fur. Yet his common sense kicked in, along with his innate stubbornness, and as a result he refused the offer, almost as if he was disgusted by the thought in and of itself.

"No way," the garou protested, "I'm not gonna treat you like a pup."

"Suit yourself," the youko said, curling his tail around himself. "I'm fine either way."

Flannel laughed dryly. "Of course you are. Well, if you'll excuse me, I've got some not-getting-petted to do."

Nishiki giggled. "Have fun!"

He thought about a witty reply to give the other, but decided to spare Nishiki his usual jabs, and instead replied amiably. Flannel smiled, and waved the other goodbye as he left.

"I will."


	2. B

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are somewhat graphic depictions of gore and death in this chapter. It's also a lot more wordier than the last chapter, so sorry about that.

**Bloodthirst**

n. _eagerness for or marked by the shedding of blood, violence, or killing._

* * *

They were animals first.

It is not a hard concept to wrap around, but the others in Kamui's army easily forget that a youko or a garou's human form is _not_ their default. No, their true form is the beastly one, the one where their teeth can cut through flesh like butter, and their eyes are as red as the pools of blood they spill underneath them. The form where their voices are like the static in the air, and are echoic, bright, and warped. _That_ form is their real one, the one they were born as, and the one they usually die as.

The human form is a disguise, a mask, a fake. Wolves and foxes alike adopted a humanistic side to them, in order to blend in with the humans, and trick them into thinking they are friendly or merciful.

It could not be further from the truth.

The truth was that youkos and garous alike _despised_ humans. They feared and hated them for their unending discrimination and attempts to wipe the beasts from the face of the earth. Hunters and poachers wanted nothing more than a fox's fur to line their coats, or to have a wolf's head mount their fire place. Humans that did not share that mindset were still dangerous, as they still had the same morality as those who did.

The fact that either of the species ended up in Kamui's army is a miracle in itself. The youko are mythical beings, lost in legend and rarity. Those that knew of their existence knew that they were messengers of the Gods, and they were some bridge between humanity and divinity.

What was more divine, however, was the price that a single ounce of youko fur sold for on the markets. Very few people knew that the foxes existed, and many of those that _did_ know dreamed of hauling a fortune for their pelts.

The garou do not have it easy, either. They were once peaceful beings, never going out of their way to harm other humans before. But horror stories and tall tales were woven to paint the wolves out like monsters, like evil beasts that slaughtered herds and stole away children in the night. Such discriminatory tales are what caused fear and hatred of the garou in the first place. The wolves, in return, harbor such an intense hate and anger towards the humans, that many who venture into their rocky mountains never make it back out alive.

Unprovoked slaughter of garous were common. Many of them were out of spite, but all of them were forgiven if the aggressor claimed that their lives were in danger, or that the wolves were the ones who attacked them first.

The vicious cycle of murder and hate seemed unending, but it was obvious that it was the humans who were largely to blame. Many thought it was impossible that they could get the help of the garous or the youkos during the war, but the fact that Nishiki and Flannel were _both_ loyal soldiers in Kamui's force showed that there was a small hope for reconciliation. It showed that times had changed, and that humans and shape-shifters were putting their best foot forward.

Or, at least, that was what Kamui _thought._

...

Nishiki's visage is that of a kind, proper man, and the fact that everything from his hair to his skin is so well taken care of, it would mislead one into thinking that such an egoistic creature is incapable of killing, or fighting, or anything that would blemish his perfect image.

Oh, how _wrong_ those people are. Youkos are not just known as bewitching foxes for nothing. No, the foxes never have to aggravate someone, or push someone to the edge of anger to break out their weakness. They lure them in, befriend them, trick them, and go in for a swift yet brutal murder.

Nishiki would be lying if he said he has not killed humans before, but his pledges of benevolence to most humans is true. After all, when one of them does him a favor, he has to repay them back.

Even if it is in that special way that only youkos can do.

...

Flannel, on the contrary, is more rugged than his Hoshidan counterpart. His face shows the least of it, with an x-shaped scar on his left cheek, and other scars and bruises marring the surface of his body. It was only expected, however, considering his position as the alpha garou.

He is a killer and an animal by every definition of the word. Garous themselves are known to be extremely vicious, and while Flannel's goofy smile and stubborn personality hides that well, nothing can truly mask the desire inside.

The desire to rip humans to _shreds_. To unravel them piece by piece, until there is nothing left but the crimson spatter of insignificance. The ungodly desire to splice them like bugs between his fingers, and to taste the fear and pity that will inevitably be the last expression on their faces.

For those reasons alone, the garous are hunted, as if their humane appearances mean nothing to fellow humans. And while Flannel assures that he trusts the humans in Kamui's army, there is something about his hidden nature that could not be deterred from, no matter the promise. Pieri, among a few others, knew of Flannel's true self. They knew of the reverie he feels when a life is taken before his eyes, the smile when his face gets covered in blood, and the excitement of the hunt even when his prey is _obviously_ outmatched.

And Flannel could befriend every human in Nohr and Hoshido alike, but nothing could sate his bloodlust better than a pair of human eyes, looking up lifelessly in his direction.

...

They are the bad nightmares and dreams gone wrong. They are the legends, the stories, the myths debunked. They are night and day, bright-eyed and excited, dulled and frustrated.

They are animals first.

Initially, Nishiki and Flannel both suspected that the other was too kind to kill humans. After all, what would they be doing in an astral plane, _full of humans,_ if they secretly wanted to kill people like them? What were they doing, befriending the humans, getting close to them in intimate ways, if they were ultimately pleased by their untimely demise? What were they doing, fighting for a cause that was not _really_ theirs, if not for the humans?

But they both learned the truth, and that there is a line where one can walk between wanting to kill someone and wanting to protect them. People like Kamui, Aqua, Hinoka, Camilla, and all the others in the army are humans, but they are to be protected. Enemies from the third kingdom, or rebellious Nohrians and Hoshidans, were also human, but _they_ were to be killed.

So, was it so wrong if, after discovering their innate hunger together, the two went hunting? Was it so wrong for the two of them to chase down enemy spies like little prey? Was it so wrong to run through the woods, and be the nightmares that they are forced to become?

It could not have been wrong. After all, they are the creatures that lurk in the dark yet strike in the light. They are the beings bred from loss and discrimination, forced into hiding and seclusion. They are fellow creatures of the Gods, yet are treated like devilish inventions. They inherently desired peace above all else, despite their hesitation. But years and years of being hunted and threatened have instilled something _new_ in their blood.

Lust, and not for the flesh of a loving partner or two. Lust, for the crimson blood, the red waters of life, the bones and skin of human bodies. They have seen and felt death, watched the closest ones in their packs die. They want nothing more than for the humans to feel that themselves, to feel the pain and loss that their kind have felt for years unending.

They want entrails, organs, and arteries that they can thread through their hands like sickeningly red strings of yarn. They want blackened kidneys and bruised eyes, and they want those eyes to be onlooking trophies in their display case. They want hardened screams and dry throats, pulsing gashes and spurting blood. They want to feel the still-beating hearts of their victims in their hands, and they want to squeeze it until the deep, blackened red explodes and runs down their pale skin. They want to see the tears, hear the prayers, and feel the fear. They want to snap necks so deliciously, that the sound all but sends a rush of exhilaration down their backs. They want the human bodies to crumple like rag dolls, and they want to spread their remains like ashes.

They want death. They want retribution. They want revenge.

So, after all they have been through, is it so wrong for Kamui or anyone else to judge them? Did they have any right to try and decide what was moral and what was not, especially in the case of the garou and the youko?

Those are the questions that Kamui asked themselves, when crossed paths with Nishiki and Flannel only to discover that they were covered in blood and guts and _worse._ Their eyes were so wide and _alive,_ like they could not believe it was Kamui of all people that found them, like the dragon was the inhumane one for interrupting their murder spree.

Well, just because they _act_ like the monsters they are thought to be, does not mean they wanted the _others_ to see them that way.

But Kamui's eyes are red, different from Nishiki's deep color or Flannel's bright crimson. They are red of a human kind, wide and brimming with fear and confusion. And in those reddened eyes, Nishiki and Flannel cannot help but wonder if they were wrong to want what they are so deserving of.

Forgiveness.

...

"What did you _do?_ "

There is no answer from either of them. Kamui wants to think they are silent because they are _sorry,_ because they realized what they did was wrong. But judging from the rise of their chests, the quickness of their movements, and the blood on their bodies, Kamui figured that they were silent for a completely different reason.

They were not sorry as much as they were _tired_. It was as if they were ashamed that they could not form the words quickly enough, but not so shamed that they could still look Kamui straight in the eyes.

 _Spare me this situation,_ Kamui internally begged. _Why did I choose to go strolling in the forest today, of all days?_

"They're spies," Flannel spoke up suddenly, wiping some smeared blood off of his face. "We got rid of 'em."

" _That's_ an understatement!" Kamui yelled. "Gods, I know this war has been hard on us all, we've seen our fair share of death, but _this_ is brutal. _This_ is overkill!"

It had to be, because those poor people were _spies,_ plural, and only _one_ body was still in tact. And judging from the smell and all the torn clothes, there used to be more. Gods, there used to be more. The absence of corpses was suspicious enough, and the only reason that Kamui could come up with that was _somewhat_ logical was that Nishiki and Flannel _ate_ the rest.

 _I'm going to throw up,_ Kamui thought. _Not even Marx or Ryouma would do something like this. I don't think they could._

"Kamui, you look pretty stressed out. Are you going to punish us now?" Nishiki suddenly spoke up, looking discontented. "I still owe you, and I'll do anything to make up for it, but...-"

"-...But _what_?" They interrupted. They bore a long, hard stare into both of the males. "What could you possibly want after this?"

"Don't look at us like that," Flannel hissed, clenching his fists. " _Stop_ making that face!"

"What _face?_ "

"The face of someone that's staring at a _monster._ Gods, Kamui, what's even the difference between this and what we do everyday? Just because we don't use a sword or an axe to kill 'em, we're suddenly bad people? Like the Nosferatu or King Garon?"

"Flannel, I did _not_ say that. I didn't say...!"

"You didn't have to say anything," Nishiki cut in, obviously dejected by the entire situation. "It's _all_ over your face. You don't understand, do you? And I really hoped you would, because you're usually so nice, Kamui..."

"I _am_ nice. What you guys just did...-"

" _You_ ," Flannel yelled, "have _no_ right to tell me anything. I joined you because I was _lost, a_ nd you said you would lead me the right way. And now that I don't wield a fancy weapon or wear armor, you think that me killing a couple o' spies is the worst thing that could happen? Do you _hear_ yourself?"

"I...-"

"Kamui," Nishiki interrupted again, looking a bit nervous himself. "You used to tell people how terrible King Garon was, for manipulating you and your siblings, for causing mass murder. Well, how is your siblings destroying _entire_ villages any less worse than us killing a few spies? Spies that wanted to kill _you,_ too. They said it right before we got rid of them."

"No, Nishiki, I hear what you're saying, and I understand where you're coming from, but you two are _wrong._ Leon and the others, they were different, they didn't _tear_ their enemies apart-"

"They _can't_ tear them apart, dummy." Flannel admonished, spitting some blood out of his mouth. His expression was worsening into something nasty. "They're _human._ "

"Well...-"

"I get it. Just because we're not humans, you think it's wrong for us to do the same things that you guys do."

"No, that's not it!"

"You're _scared,_ " Flannel growled, and he stepped closer to Kamui. There was a dark glimmer in his eyes. "You're _scared_ of us, aren't you?"

Their head was full of screams, screams that begged for them to say anything, to do _anything_ that could possibly make the situation better. But Kamui was ever silent as they slowly stepped back from Flannel, like he was going to hurt them.

Like he was a rabid animal.

Kamui could see it in his eyes. In the dark flecks of deeper red laid the hurt and the betrayal. Because these boys believed in Kamui above all else, but the dragon's refusal to speak said it all.

Kamui _was_ afraid, and it was because they were human at heart. They were isolated, secluded, and twisted in their own ways, but unlike Flannel or Nishiki, they never faced the harsh discrimination of simply being who they were. No, Kamui was always loved and treated kindly.

And that was where they ultimately differed. Flannel knew this, Nishiki knew this, and Kamui _definitely knew this._

But they tried to fix things, anyways.

"I'm not...I just..."

"You just don't want us to act like those scary monsters, right? Like the story about garous and how they hunt kids in the night? Or how youkos are evil and deserve to die? We're just like _those_ guys, right? And you don't want to admit it."

Even Nishiki, at this point, was afraid. The scariest thing about Flannel was his temper. It was surprisingly short and so intense that once he was angered to a certain point, he would be lost in uncontrollable rage.

If he blew up on them, it would be all over. But the garou knew this for a fact himself, and it took every inch of his being to restrain himself, and threaten Kamui in the least violent way possible.

"Well, think what you want, Kamui. But know _this_."

He quickly ran up, and grabbed the other by the hand. He brought them close to him, so close that they could see the fangs sticking out and the fury coursing through his eyes and in his jaws. Kamui was motionless, rendered speechless by the other's quick and sudden movements. They had no choice but to stare, stare and feel the burn of a hardened glare pour into his soul.

"You want me to be a monster? _Fine._ I'll be your monster, Kamui, and I'll show you that I'm nothin' like the stories."

Flannel's grip was firm, but he did not draw blood, and instead he shoved Kamui away. They nearly lost their balance, no thanks to their own heartbeat, which was deafening in their eyes. Their eyes were fearful when they saw Flannel's figure towering over them.

" _I'm worse._ "

With that, the garou ran off, quickly transforming back into his real form. The one where his height nearly tripled Kamui's, where his mouth was full of uneven fangs and his eyes shone like jewels embedded in a black box. The form where his fur was misshapen and his claws were stained red and yellow from the terrible things they got caught up in. The form where Flannel's handsome features disappeared into a shadow of a beast, where the only way to recognize it was him was from his warped voice, and from the same irritated look in his eyes.

Yet the wolf was silent, and said nothing as he ran off like a monstrous blur, like white lines in the evergreens. In moments, he disappeared faster than flames in the water. Nishiki, with a mixed look of sympathy and disappointment, transformed as well, and he was like shimmering amber and streaks of gold, fading away like an illusion into the forest, probably to follow the frenzied tracks of his friend.

Once they were both gone, Kamui collapsed unto their knees. They held their face in their hands, and felt tears that threatened to spill over.

 _What have I done?_ They thought, mind heavy with regrets. _Gods, I'm all but dense, what was I even thinking?_

 _I wanted to stop their bloodthirst, but..._ They looked from their hands to the dead body before them, and the unsightly remains of what was once people that lay all around it. The smell was worsening, and the blood stains were spreading. Spies or not, no one deserved such a cruel fate.

And yet, they did not want to tell Flannel or Nishiki that they were wrong again. After all, they were warranted their bloodlust, anger, and sadness. They deserved to have those feelings, at the very least, despite everything the dragon had said. But Kamui's ignorance only worsened things in the end, and they shuddered to think that if they stayed hidden, or never spoke up to begin with, none of this would have happened.

No, Kamui wanted to stop this kind of thing from happening at all. They wanted to stop their bloodthirst, and show them they could be more than the monsters they were made out to be.

_But I think I only made it worse._


	3. C

 

**Celebration**

n. _the action of marking one's pleasure at an important event or occasion by engaging in enjoyable, typically social, activity._

* * *

The twelfth of July. At this time of year, the summer sun is peaking, radiating onto the earth intense warmth and heat. Also notable are the cicadas, and their loud and annoying buzzes that drag on to the darkest hours of the night. But despite the sweltering heat, there were beautiful things about the summertime, as well.

Like the sky. During the day, the sky was always clear, with no clouds and an ever bright sun shining high. At night, the stars come out and shine brighter than during any other time of the year. Shooting stars were spectacles, and the summer solstice was like a revelation, or a ceremonial event that brought people together.

Which leads into another good part about summer. Festivals. The camaraderie of long time traditions are celebrated each year, and Hoshidans are especially known for their celebratory robes and energetic fireworks. Wishes are made like the new year, and people of all ages and all origins can enjoy each other's company underneath humid air and lit up stalls.

Nishiki, despite everything, loves the summertime. There was something about the way that the warmth settled on his fur, in his skin, that made him lively, or at least, livelier than usual.

His birthday was also during the summer, the twelfth day of July to be exact, but he assures that that was _completely_ beside the point.

Still, the youko knows that a birthday is a beautiful celebration, and every year his comes around and he makes a point of celebrating as much as he can. Wearing fox pauldrons and masks in respect to the other youkos back home, Nishiki spent his favorite day of the year by celebrating himself and all of his kin.

And he would not want it any other way.

...

The thirtieth of October. During this time of the year, summer has long since faded into autumn, as dizzying heat is replaced with chilly winds and falling leaves. Everything is dry and ready to make haste for the winter. Animals are more tame this time of the year, and food are stored for the upcoming brutality of winter.

But, as beautiful as it is, autumn can also be deadly. Everything is dry, and when rapid winds carry away the sparks of the dying summer, wild fires are more likely to spread. The cold lashes out harshly one day, but can disappear altogether the next. When leaves have died and crunched off, they fly into people's faces, and make large, cumbersome piles anywhere they can.

The best part about autumn, within all the wildness, had to be the food. For humans, they enjoy the freshly pickled veggies and fruit, as well as the fall harvest and lasting fish and meat caught in the summer heat. Hearty stews, especially those in army mess halls, sit brewing on stoves for hours on end, their thick and rich flavor wafting in the air.

Flannel would not admit it, but this was his favorite time of the year. He felt the most energy, and nothing beat the experience of bounding down autumnal paths, being a part of the crisp yet dying world.

The best part of this time of year was probably his birthday, which was on the thirtieth of October.

As a garou, such trivial manners are never mentioned, let alone celebrated. Flannel was more interested in finding old buttons and dust bunnies, rather than getting cake or presents. Each year he does his best to keep his day of birth a secret, even if some part of him wishes that the others would just _know,_ and throw him a party, or something.

Even if it was a terrible party, it must have been better than simply watching the hours of his birthday slide away, like the leaves that Flannel loved so much.

...

"Today's your birthday, isn't it?"

Flannel looked up from his collection of dust bunnies, surprised by the sudden inquiry of the youko. That smile on the other's face was mischievous, and the garou could already feel some sort of prank being hatched in that playful mind of his.

 _Not this time,_ he thought. _What could he possibly want now?_ And with a heavy sigh, he answered.

"So what if it is? S'not a big deal."

"It's a _huge_ deal. Your birthday only comes around once, y'know!"

"But it comes every year. It's nothing to sneeze at. You can always celebrate the next year."

Nishiki sighed, curling up in his own tail, becoming an identifiable blob of amber and cotton. After a strange purr or two, the youko responded.

"That's _why_ you should celebrate. You might not know what will happen next year, if there's even a next year!"

Flannel shook his head, and returned his attention to the dust bunnies he had. "Well, whatever. I don't really care about it either way."

"You don't?" Nishiki asked, voice lilting in a teasing manner. "So you won't mind if I throw a small party or two for you? Or give you a gift?"

"Parties are not really my thing." Flannel insisted, poking one dust bunny until it fell apart. "And as for gifts, well, if I don't like it, I'm givin' it right back to you!"

"Fufu. Is that a challenge, then? To get you something you like? I accept it!" Nishiki sprung up suddenly, eyes alight with a million possibilities of what he could give Flannel for his birthday. With the other's eccentric tastes, he was sure that _anything_ would suffice.

But still, he had to get his share of the fun, too! "By the way, how old are you even turning?"

"Seriously?" Flannel pouted, as if the question was entirely offensive in of itself. "I'm old _enough._ "

"So you don't even remember how old you are, huh?"

"No!" The wolf denied, face lighting up in embarrassment. "I remember! I'm just sayin' that it's not important! It's rude to ask a garou their age, y'know!"

Nishiki laughed, whimsical notes escaping his mouth like unwarranted music. Much more appealing than his laughter in his youko form, which even Flannel admitted sounded scary.

"Sorry, I had no idea. Tell you what, I'll get you a present that'll blow your mind! If it's not cracked up to be, I'll owe you and pay you back, promise."

"Whatever. Just...don't give me any of that human trash that they're usually eatin'."

"Of course, of course! I'll see you later, Flannel!"

Before the birthday boy could reply, Nishiki poked his head back in the room, smiling widely at the other.

"Oh, and happy birthday."

In spite of himself, Flannel responded, face flushed with a weird combination of embarrassment and gratitude.

"Thank you."

...

Hours passed since Flannel had that conversation with Nishiki, and he was starting to worry that the other had forgotten his promise. _Not that I care,_ Flannel thought to himself. _It's not a big deal, anyways._

_Although a present might not be too bad..._

He sighed, holding his chin up with a gloved hand. Maybe it was because it was his birthday, but he was leisurely hanging around, with not even a small duty assigned to him on that day. Normally, he would be happy with not having mundane chores to do, but the lack of activity or contact with anyone made it lonely.

And even if they did not celebrate much back at the Mount Garou, there was at least enough of them that no one would ever feel left out.

Flannel was considering going out on a hunting spree, when he felt someone's presence behind him. Turning around, he was face to face with his youko friend, who was smiling triumphantly.

"Well, it's time!"

"For what, exactly?"

"Here, close your eyes."

"Y'know I can still probably tell what you're doing without seeing you? I'm not a human."

"I know, just pretend that you have _no_ idea what's going on, okay?"

"Fine."

Flannel closed his eyes, and focused on anything but Nishiki's movements. Instead, he thought about his dust bunnies, and how he wished he did not accidentally crush all of them. He thought about the wishbones he started to collect, and the pretty napkin that Prince Leon left behind at the dinner table, and the escapade that Flannel had to go through in order to get it back...

Before he knew it, he was lost in his own thoughts, and Nishiki's playful voice had to bring him back to his reality.

"...Flannel."

"Oh! Sorry, what's going on?"

"You can open your eyes now."

"Okay..."

When the wolf opened his eyes, he was surprised to find himself submerged in darkness. It took a second for his eyes to adjust, but after that he could see in the dark easily, just as if he were in the light. Despite this, the darkness of the room was lit up, and the garou finally saw for himself what was going on.

They were in a small, unused drawing room, but it was illuminated by floating lights, which were actually small balls of fire. They gave off golden flecks of light, and Flannel stood agape. He moved his attention from the lights long enough to examine his so called 'presents'.

On the center table was an array of different gifts. He could tell what they were right away. There was a 'cake' that was actually a decorated slab of meat, a small box with pins on it, and a strange medallion. These different objects had no relation to one another, and while Flannel fiddled around with them, he waited for an explanation from Nishiki.

"I made a 'cake', sorta. Humans put milk in theirs so I had to come up with a substitute."

"Right. Still can't believe they just steal other animals' milk like that. Smells good, though. What is it? Kinshi meat?"

"Yeah! Saved it from the last hunting party. And the box is full of pins and ribbons, those are from Sakura and Elise."

"The princesses?" Flannel asked, holding up the box. _That would explain all the pretty colors, at least._ "They remembered?"

"Elise is like, _super good_ at remembering birthdays. I thought it was nice of them, don't you think?"

"W-Well, it's only expected. I mean, I _guess_ it was nice of them to remember..."

Nishiki nodded his head, laughing in spite of the other. "It was really nice."

"So what's this necklace, then?"

Flannel held up the object in question, and upon further inspection noticed it was made out of a nice wood, not the common logs that they find in the forest. What was it, exactly? Teak? Alder? The garou sniffed, but his experience in distinguishing such materials apart was minimal. Ignoring the woodwork, Flannel also noticed that there were golden, painted marks on either side of the medallion. One of them resembled a garou of some sort, which kind of made him smile, but the other was less familiar. He chalked it up to being some sort of lizard. Then, he moved his thumbs across the medallion, and onto the flaxen chain that it was hanging on.

His eyes flickered to meet Nishiki's gaze. "I like this."

"Really? I was worried you wouldn't, since you have really weird tastes."

"Did you make it?"

"Part of it. I had some help with the other parts."

"Who helped you?"

Nishiki was silent for a moment, and smiled softly.

"Kamui."

Flannel froze, his fingers ceased in their movements, leaving the medallion clutched in his still hand. His head was starting to heat up with anger that had not dissipated, not settled down since the incident with Kamui. Since the royal had seen them in their bloodthirsty stage, their frenzied animal forms. How could the youko so easily forgive them? Flannel nearly growled at him.

"I don't want anything from _them._ "

"Flannel...-"

"-...It's _my_ birthday, and I haven't forgiven them yet."

"Well, it's from me, too. And think of it as me paying you back something nice on your birthday. Orochi and Tsukuyomi also added some protective charms on it, too."

"Like what?"

"Protection, clarity. It's supposed to clear your mind, and protect your soul, or something like that!"

"You think _I_ need this?" Flannel hissed, clenching the trinket in hand. "You think I'm weak or somethin'?"

"No," Nishiki insisted calmly. The lights started moving around them, their flecks spreading in different directions, but judging from Flannel's unmoving stance, Nishiki could tell that he did not really care. With a quiet sigh, the fox continued.

"No," he repeated. "I think you're strong. So I just wanted to give you this, as a gift for your birthday! You're still mad at Kamui, but Orochi and Tsukuyomi haven't done anything bad to you, right?"

"...They haven't." Flannel conceded. He _hated_ telling his truthful emotions. It felt vulnerable and childish. But Nishiki was not as patronizing as he was reasonable, which was one aspect that Flannel would admit he was weaker in than the other. And as much as he loathed to admit it, the medallion was nicely made and kind of pretty, which were usually thing that he disliked in objects, but this was an exception.

The only exception. Quickly, he pocketed the object, and raised his head to meet Nishiki's gaze once again.

"...Thanks. For all of this, I mean."

"You're welcome! Does that mean you like these gifts enough that you don't want to give them back to me?"

Flannel sighed. "Yeah, whatever. I'll keep 'em, but not because I like them, or anything! Because Elise, Sakura, Orochi, and what's-his-face, Tsukuyomi? Anyways, they helped, too, and I'll feel bad if I don't accept it."

The fox smiled, humming in approval. "Well, glad you like it! Happy birthday!"

"Yeah, uh-huh. Say, what about these?" Flannel gestured to the floating lights, trying to grab one but failing. "Are these magic, too?"

The Hoshidan smiled toothily, and the second he clicked his tongue, the lights all went off. The sudden change made Flannel yelp, but he adjusted quickly. In the cover of darkness, he saw the youko's bright eyes gleaming happily.

"These are youko flames. They're not strong enough to be real fire yet, but I thought they'd add a nice touch. You like them, right?"

"Yeah, sure. Kinda jealous, garous can't do anything like that."

"I'm sure there's a ton of things you can do, Flannel. Like having some birthday cake, yeah? Cheers!"

They did not have glasses, so Flannel bopped Nishiki's nose with his own, and smiled goofily.

"Cheers! Here's to stupid celebrations that happen once a year!"

"And good friends that give out gifts no matter what!"

"And meat cake!"

"And boxes full of pins!"

"Alright, Nishiki, that's enough."

"Okay, okay. Happy birthday, Flannel."

For the umpteenth time that day, but for the first time he _really_ meant it, Flannel finally gave in, with a smile.

"Thank you."


	4. D

**Direction**

n. _a course along which someone or something moves._

* * *

It was no secret that Flannel was horrible with directions. After all, he got lost so often that Kamui considered making a formal "Flannel Search Party" in case the garou wandered off too far. Such a prospect might have been humorous any other day, but the wolf was still stinging with the hurt of being seen as a monstrous beast by the other, so he did not appreciate the joke.

Even if it _was_ partly true, garous are full of pride and to be shot down a peg never ends well with them. Each time that Flannel stares at the medallion he got on his birthday, he is reminded of the events that happened not so long ago, and the old anger within him starts burning anew.

Which is why he had to get out. Escape for a bit, take a hike, wander out there. There was no perfect time than the present, especially considering that things have finally slowed down to a halt war-wise. There would be no time for fooling around later.

Thus, Flannel headed out of the astral plane with ease, going anywhere else but the strange fort that lied between dimensions. He ended up at the foot of some group of mountains, some nameless peaks just eastern of the Nohr-Hoshido boundaries. Unlike Mount Garou, the mountains were surprisingly bare of most trees or features that mountains ought to have, but the towering heights of straight stone and crags posed a challenge for the garou, and it made it that much more interesting to climb.

The wolf made a point of scaling the mountain in his humanoid form first, easily bounding from one step to the next, grasping on to the ledges and feeling nothing but the smooth surface against his gloves. When the easy parts started getting harder, and the gloves and boots proved too leathery to get any purchase on the even surfaces, Flannel transformed into his true form, the white patches of fur almost camouflaged against the slate color of the landscape.

Sharp claws dug into the rock, and one wild leap after another made Flannel's progress skyrocket. If anyone were to witness him, they would have thought that a giant, white blur was scaling the paths, or some invisible beast was leaving claw marks and scratches behind. But no one was there as he was alone with nothing but his own thoughts, because out here he could let off steam. Out here, he was running wildly up the mountain, scrambling to reach the top. It was the feeling of adrenaline that mostly kept him interested, the thunderous heartbeat inside motivating him to keep going forward.

By the time he reached the top, the moon was high in the sky, and the air was thin and cold. Flannel looked out the horizon, and in one short moment, realized something terrible.

 _I'm lost,_ he thought. _I have no idea where I am._

It should have been easy to just go back the way he came, but in his frenzy he had sprinted most of the way, leaving his trails cold and far behind him. Not to mention that the mountain was bigger than he originally thought, and no matter where he looked, he could only see the endless expanse of rocks and dirt.

"Gods dammit," he cursed out loud. " _Now_ what do I do?"

...

Nishiki was great with directions. He had an innate ability to tell where he was at all times, and was a good judge of how distant something was. Everywhere he went was with a purpose, usually to pay back some kind human that did him a favor at some point.

Which is why Nishiki headed off to Cyrkensia, in order to see the dancers. He loved beautiful things, and those dancers had helped him in the past by fixing a sprain that he got from being in a scrap with some poachers. While the favor has long since passed, Nishiki was sure to return the generosity. He wanted to do so the last time he was there, but the incident with the soldiers of Valla complicated things.

The beautiful Cyrkensia has been destroyed since then, but its inhabitants came back after the attack, and the fox was witness to what would be the start of the rebuilding of the resort city.

Before he could even talk to any of the remaining dancers, a couple passed by whose gossip had struck peculiarly with Nishiki.

"The mountain range, the one with the crags, it's hellish this time of year!"

"You said it. Any brave explorer that wants to pass by it is asking for a death wish."

"Funny you should say that. I passed by a traveler on my way here. He was a strange fellow, and bounded up the mountain without any hesitation."

"What? He must be no local, then. I've seen the best try to scale that mountain, but to no avail. The trails get too steep for any human to climb."

"Well, with hair as long as his, not to mention that strange tail, I'm sure he's fine..."

The youko, out of worry, caught this couple's attention, and immediately started describing Flannel to the best of his ability. The woman's eyes lit up, and she gave a quick nod.

"That's him! Black and white all over, shirt not properly buttoned up..."

"And you said he was trying to climb a mountain?"

"Yeah, it's to the west of here. Right by the borders of Nohr and Hoshido. You're not planning to try and chase him, are you? It's dangerous up there!"

The fox smiled. "No, I'm not gonna chase him. But someone has to make sure he comes back down safely."

"May the Gods protect you, young man."

"Well," he said, "they haven't let me down before."

...

Nishiki found himself at the foot of the mountain where Flannel had supposedly climbed. The moon was high in the sky already, and Nishiki wondered if anyone at camp noticed their extended disappearance. _Looks like we're gonna owe them at this rate! Better find Flannel soon._ With that thought in mind, the youko started trekking up the path.

Similarly to his friend before, he spent some time in his human form, springing forth with his legs and grasping onto the ledges with bare hands and sharp claws. It worked for a while, but the slope started to steepen considerably, up to the point where human forms would be stuck.

"Lucky for me, I'm a youko!" He said aloud, to no one but himself. The beaststone that was always on his person shone with a violet light, and in a mid-flip in the air, Nishiki transformed.

Instantly, he grabbed the nearly vertical ledges, and began to scale them with little problem. He raced across the gaps, soaring over large crevices that would otherwise swallow up humans. His fur got caught on some rogue rocks, but that was the worst of it. The fox was relieved that at the very least, he knew this mountain had not gotten the best of youko or garou alike.

"Flannel!" He yelled out, voice slightly warped in his youko form, sounding more echoic and pitched than normal. "Flannel, are you out here? It's getting late!"

Nishiki kept running, and the waning moon was his guide in the growing darkness. Even if he could see perfectly fine in the night, it was more motivating to know that the Gods kept the moon out like some sort of beacon. And with any hope, he would find Flannel before the sun shows its face, instead.

"Flannel...?"

The youko caught onto his scent, which was nearly stale up until this point. His sense of smell was a gift that especially showed itself in times like these. For hours he smelled nothing but the remnants of his garou friend, the dirty rocks, and multiple lizards that crawled between the cracks in the boulders. But a stronger scent of Flannel took his attention, and he followed the trail.

Flannel's scent was different, yet familiar. All shape-shifters have a similar presence, and while Flannel is the only garou that Nishiki knows, he knew that he was different from the others in his pack, too. Because Flannel smelled like dust and grass and linen, like salt and velvet. It was a strange smell, but the youko had grown used to it, and he had even grown to like it.

It reassured him at least, and Nishiki vaguely wondered if the other would be glad to see him. He traipsed down a windy path, sensing Flannel's scent at the end of the walk way. He thought of what to say, figuring a joke or two he might tell to diffuse the other's nerves. After all, the wolf never liked showing his weakness, but lost was lost. This large landscape was no doubt an obstacle in Flannel's way, and knowing him he must have wandered aimlessly for hours.

"There you are, Flannel! I was worried that...-!"

The youko started talking, but there was no one there. At the end of the path was not a humanoid nor a garou, but an empty space that smelled suspiciously of Flannel. Nishiki, finding this surface to be doable, switched back to his human form to inspect the scene closer. He got on his knees, and sniffed around. It was Flannel's scent, alright. His clothes were here and that distinct smell of leather on his gloves lingered on the stone's surface.

Then, just a few inches away, Nishiki found something. Lying precariously on the edge of the cliff was the medallion that he gave Flannel for his birthday. The surface was slightly scratched, and the wood was still warm when Nishiki picked it up.

 _Did he drop it? Where did he go?_ The fox looked around, hoping to find some answers. He looked over the edge of the cliff, into the dark caverns below, and his heart sunk as he did.

On the edge of the cliff side, caught on a branch, was a glove. A dark, leathery glove that Nishiki did not even need to retrieve to know it was Flannel's.

"No," he murmured, staring into the depths. "Don't tell me that he..."

Moments passed and nothing answered Nishiki's pleas except the wind, which was cold and thin.

Then, without any hesitation, Nishiki climbed down the side of the cliff face, grabbing the glove and necklace, all whilst staring down the darkness with a steely, amber gaze.

_I'm coming, Flannel._

_Hang in there._

_..._

The garou did not remember falling. He barely remembered walking near the edge in the first place. But what else could explain the unending darkness around him, and the sharp pain that struck him at all angles? Or that the moonlight disappeared far above him, as he stared helplessly at the sky?

Flannel tried to move, but that pain bitterly cut into him, making him yelp and forcing him to stay down where he was.

"Dammit," he cursed. "How did I even get down here?"

He closed his eyes, and searched his brain for the answer. He thought about what he did before, about his useless attempts to find his way back home, knowing fully well that his sense of direction was worse than a newborn baby's. Still, he tried to remember being near a cliff, or travelling downward, or even falling, but no scenes in his memory seemed to match.

When he opened his eyes, he saw a moving shadow up ahead, and figured that it was some creature trying to off him in his state of weakness. _Like hell I'd let them touch me!_ With a groan, he reached for his beaststone, which landed next to him in the dirt, and quickly sprung to his feet once transfomed, ignoring the pain that stung him everywhere.

"Back off!" Flannel roared, raising his large fists to strike. However, the creature was quicker than he was, and leaped on him. The wolf raised his claws to tear the thing apart, but paused when he felt something hit his face.

More specifically, when he felt something _lick_ his face.

"...Nishiki?"

"Hey! It's me!"

Flannel blinked, and saw the youko form of his friend standing over him. The fox's scarlet eyes were bright and happy, and while he smiled, Flannel noticed hesitation in the movement.

"What are you doing here? Also, get off me!"

"Oh, sorry!" The fox leaped off, and the blue spheres of fire (which Flannel did not notice before) followed after him, floating by his presence. "Are you okay? I've been looking for you!"

The wolf stood up straight, towering over his friend but posing no threat. He stretched, and let out a howl before answering. "I'm banged up, but I could be worse. How did you know I was here?"

"Some locals tipped me off. I really owe them, otherwise I would never have found you in one piece! Let's get back to the others, okay?"

"Huh. Alright, then. But don't worry about me so much! I could have found my own way back, y'know..." Flannel muttered, voice fluctuating. It did not show in this form, but he felt heat rush to his face again, and his eyes were downcast in embarrassment.

_Just how many times am I gonna mess up in front of him?_

"Is that why I found you at the bottom of a ravine?" Nishiki mused. "Or why you dropped your glove and necklace?"

"Okay, okay!" Flannel quickly said. "I get it, I needed your help. You don't have to rub it in my face, Nishiki."

He giggled, the laugh sounding utterly distorted, but Flannel did not mind in the least. "Sorry, sorry. Let's just get out of here, okay? You're bleeding and once we get back maybe we can get some healers to look at you!"

"Yeah, alright. Just not that mean guy with the funny hair, okay?"

"Oh, you mean Asama? Yeah, he's pretty rude, but I think Sakura or Elise wouldn't mind looking after you. Let's go, then."

"After you."

Nishiki climbed up the rock wall with ease, but went slowly as if to guide Flannel. The garou, usually prideful, decided to take this gesture kindly, and mimicked the other's movements. It would not be long before the two made their way back down the way they came, and once they reached the astral plane, they would think of some way to apologize to the others for disappearing so suddenly.

Everything seemed resolved, but Flannel looked behind him, and kept thinking the same thing repeatedly. _How did I even fall down there? I can't believe I even forgot..._

"Hey, Flannel! I'm gonna leave you behind if you don't keep up!"

Returning his attention to the other, the wolf smiled. "As if I'd let that happen!" With strain, he forced his body to move, ignoring the pain he felt, focusing only on the fox in front of him, whose laughing put him at ease.

And the two of them remained like that, in high spirits despite the day's escapades, all the way until they reached the astral plane, where they evaded the scornful looks of the others.

...

That night, while resting in the healer's tent, Flannel found himself thinking about Nishiki, and wondering if he would still be alright if his friend never showed up to save him. He thought about the cliff, and if he would still be at the bottom of it, staring at the sky hopelessly, had Nishiki not come in when he did. He thought about how he fell, and pondered on the disconnect in his memories. He worried if he was getting forgetful, or if the impact of falling was so hard that he just simply forgot.

Either way, the wolf figured that it was the least of his problems, and he could move on with his life.

With that, he curled up on the bed, and immediately went to sleep, where his dreams consisted of cliff sides and fox fur, and a certain youko smiling at him like he did before.


	5. E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few translation things, since they come up in this chapter.
> 
> Faceless -> Nosferatu  
> Nosferatu (the tome) -> Resire
> 
> Also, this chapter has a few graphic images, but nothing too bad. It's a bit wordier than usual.

**Energy**

n. _the strength and vitality required for sustained physical or mental activity._

* * *

Nishiki always carried himself in a way that made him seem half-diligent and half-lazy. He loved running and playing, jumping around like a child and not the grown youko he was. But he hated training and unnecessary exercise, and napped frequently underneath the shade of the cherry trees. One day, he would be brimming with sunshine and movement, the next he would be weighed down by hazy clouds and lethargy.

The reality is that Nishiki has energy to spare. Each day, his youko blood gives him more strength and speed, and every moment is spent feeling this surge in his pseudo human body. Things like grooming and sleeping are important, but Nishiki always has to force himself to relent, to relax.

And on a particularly rainy day, Nishiki wanted nothing more than to tear up the grounds, run around and jump to his heart's content. But the sluggish atmosphere was the wrong stage for such a play, and not to mention the slippery surfaces that would threaten his balance. So, on a day that Nishiki would love to move, love to be active, he had no choice but to stay put.

He had to stay put, and watch the raindrops fall monotonously to this astral earth that he could not even call his home.

...

Flannel was eccentric. He was energetic in his own right, but always tried to conceal his nature, acting cool and pretending that the things that excited him or made him happy were not what they were. He loved bounding through forests, mountains, and woodland paths. He was a full moon on a cold night, and the hazy mornings liked to drain him of his energy.

He was like Nishiki in a lot of ways, and was different in a lot of ways, as well. Each day, the garou blood running through his veins gives him adrenaline, an urge to break free and run wild. Each minute is spent, relishing in his wolfish ways, even if it was just relaxing in the shade or collecting strange objects.

It was rainy one day, and Flannel had the desire to explore and collect, despite the downpour. Wet fur would not be the end of him, and people were more irresponsible with their belongings on rainy days, which made it the perfect opportunity for him to add things to his strange stash. On a day where he would usually stay put, Flannel made a point of being as active as possible.

As the rain fell in rhythmic hums, he could not help but think that this astral earth was starting to become a place he could call home.

...

Six. Seven. Eight? Nishiki could not tell if the broken brush he had could be the 'eighth' in his collection, but he was so damn bored that it hardly mattered, anyways. Eight brushes he had, each of different caliber but still the best brushes that any one person could have. Wire brushes for his youko form, soft-bristled brushes for his tail, and hairbrushes for his, well, hair. He had even more grooming products, not stopping at having a big supply of cleansers, aromatics, hair care, and different soaps. And yet, he could find no current interest in those objects as his muscles were itching for some movement, some stimulation.

"Oh, it's raining, but what's a little water gonna do? Not much, probably." He muttered to himself, stretching his limbs as he got up from his lofty position on the floor. The fox left the safe haven that was the inside and moved out into the open, immediately feeling the thrum of raindrops fall onto him.

Nishiki smiled, and started running around the fort, laughing as he did so. The cold rush of water hitting him made him livelier than usual, and he spread his arms wide, soaking in as much rain as he could. The rain was beautiful, really, and Nishiki loved all things that were beautiful.

Especially himself. He loved his looks, and his abilities. Even if the rain dulled and darkened everything, his sense of smell was still keen enough, and he could detect another presence outside, not too far off in the distance.

It was Flannel, of course. None of the other humans would want to leave their safe, dry rooms. And they probably should not, after all, since their weaker bodies are susceptible to more sickness in the rain. But, seeing his friend hanging out all alone gave Nishiki an idea, and he smiled to himself as he ran straight ahead for him.

" _Flaaannel!_ "

The wolf turned around, but was a moment too late as the fox jumped at him in full speed, effectively toppling him over as the two of them tumbled down in the wet grass.

"H-Hey! What the heck, Nishiki?" Flannel whined, rubbing the back of his head as he tried to sit up from the fall. "You can't just tackle people like that!"

"Sorry, couldn't help it! I'm _so_ excited today! What're you doing?"

Flannel blinked, and noticed the other's cheery mood, such that the youko's fluffy tail was swaying back and forth, and his dark eyes were bright with excitement and playfulness.

It might have been endearing, if the other was not so carelessly perched on top of him. Flannel, having been tackled, was trapped underneath Nishiki's weight, and the youko did not seem to notice their awkward position, or how he had neatly pinned him down. Nishiki's slender hands were on either side of his body, his legs straddling Flannel's waist, but judging from that naive stare on his face, he could not have known what they looked like from afar. Or up close, considering he had no qualms of invading Flannel's space without so much as a _hint_ of hesitation.

Flannel prayed to the Gods that his embarrassment did not show on his face, and quickly tried to make up for the time he wasted, dumbly staring at the other who was on top of him.

"Can you get off of me?"

"Oops, sorry there!"

Nishiki smiled, and climbed off of Flannel, smoothing out his shirt even in the pouring rain. The wolf sighed, and was lucky that there was water there to cool him off. That little event had his head fuming with embarrassing thoughts and he felt like there was steam was coming out of his ears. He shook it off, and tried to remain as placated as possible.

"Seriously, shouldn't you be inside? It's raining, in case you didn't notice."

"I could say the same thing to you! What're you doing out here, Flannel?"

"Why should I tell you? I asked first!"

Nishiki shook his head. "Actually, _I_ asked first."

"Well, I'm just collecting things, alright? It's raining and no one will probably notice me if I do this."

"I see. Then can I help? I'm super bored and I owe you one, anyways."

"You don't owe me anything," Flannel muttered. "And do what you want, I don't really care."

"You say that a lot," Nishiki pointed out, smiling. "I'm starting to think that you actually care."

"Shut up!"

He laughed. His laugh is so teasing, but it was pleasant to hear. Even if it meant he was making fun of Flannel, Nishiki's laugh was always easy on the ears.

"Sorry, sorry. But please let me help. I have nothing to do and you'll probably find more stuff if you have help."

"Fine. But I doubt you even know what to look for. You like a lot of the human stuff," Flannel pointed out. "Like their soaps and their tastes."

"Well, that's partly true, but I think you're the one that's a little weird for collecting bugs. And napkins. And leftovers. And corpses."

The wolf turned away, focusing on the little scraps he found around the armory. "Whatever. As long as I like it, it doesn't matter. I don't judge."

"I like that about you," Nishiki spoke up, picking up a broken hilt of a sword. "I think I'm more of the judgemental type."

"You?" Flannel scoffed. "No way, you're the nicest guy I know. You also do favors for _everyone,_ no matter who they are. Even for people like Asura or Zero."

"To be fair, you don't know a lot of people." He retorted jokingly. "Also, those guys and everyone else, they're my comrades. I _have_ to be nice!"

"Well, you keep a score of the favors you owe. And you also pay them back, each time. Judgmental people wouldn't really do that kind of thing."

"Hmm." Nishiki mused, tapping a finger along his chin. "Maybe you're right. But I'm just saying, I'm not just a pretty face, y'know."

Flannel looked up, and watched as Nishiki played with the sword scraps he found, tossing them between his slender fingers. There was a glint in his eyes, and his smile was toothy, the sharp edge of his fangs becoming visible.

"I'm a 'youko', after all."

"And?"

"And I'm not called a 'bewitching fox' just for fun."

Flannel wanted to ask what he meant, but he did not have a chance to ask. Nishiki handed him the objects he found, and started looking elsewhere, making a point of turning his back on Flannel. The wolf had a stirring feeling of anticipation within him, like he was expecting the other to reveal another trick, or prank him when he was not looking. But Nishiki seemed preoccupied in his search, running around and jumping onto the higher buildings with ease. And the Nohrian felt that he should have done the same, so he resumed _his_ search, as well.

But he would not forget what Nishiki said, and the entire time he kept wondering if there was more to his friend than meets the eye.

...

The youko was full of new energy, and he supposed he had Flannel to thank for it. After all, if the other was not so preoccupied with his search for new things to add to his collection, Nishiki could have been playing all by himself.

He ended up finding a few more other things. By the lottery shop were old, discarded tickets and the remnants of a vulnerary bottle. The staff shops had different protective charms, the ones that are usually used as decorations on staves, all scattered around the back. There were a few dead chickens by the mess hall garbage, but Nishiki was not adventurous enough to get them.

Hours passed, and Nishiki caught up with Flannel again. They talked about the items they pooled, and the fox noticed a happy step in the wolf's strut. A smile crossed Nishiki's face, knowing that he made the other happy with such an easy gesture. And while he still had more juice in him, he supposed it would be wiser for the two of them to turn in at some point.

"So, are you heading back in?" Nishiki asked, tilting his head as he did so.

"I probably should," Flannel agreed. "But I'm still up for more. What about you? Are you tired?"

"Are you kidding me? I've got energy to spare! Let's do more, while it's raining and everyone else is sleeping!"

"Well, I'm gonna let you in on somethin'. I buried some valuable stuff by the village we passed by yesterday. Wanna go help me unearth it?"

"Sounds good! Let's go!"

The two of them, giving one last glance to Kamui's castle, nodded, and ran out of the astral plane again. There was no evidence that they were ever there, save for the flattened grass that they left in their wake.

...

Outside of the astral plane, there did not seem to be any rain. The sky was clear and the air was crisp. Nishiki took a deep breath, and together with Flannel, started walking down the beaten path. They did not go very far, however, before a terrible odor made them stop in their tracks.

"Do you smell that?"

"You mean that horrible smell like death and rubber?" Nishiki joked dryly. "The smell that's making my eyes water? Yeah, I'm aware."

"There's a village nearby here," Flannel mentioned, "let's go see what that smell is."

"You don't think it's...-?"

"-...We won't know if we don't look."

They started trekking into the small forest nearby the village, and as they delved in deeper, the smell got worse. Humans might not notice it until they get near it, but the overwhelming stench of death was easily identifiable by the two of them. It was familiar, and the fact that it was familiar made Nishiki nervous.

When they reached a clearing, they found a large group of Nosferatu, the faceless creatures that the Nohrian mages were known for creating. They were growling and thrashing in chains, stuck in bubbling cesspools of toxic waste.

 _That's what we were smelling,_ Nishiki thought. _That poisonous stuff that hurts Hoshidans!_

Before he could even talk to Flannel, he sensed something come up behind him, so he quickly faced his enemy, transforming on the fly.

"Well, well. Look what we have here. A garou _and_ a youko. Your pelts pay high prices on the market. Not to mention you saved me the trouble of hunting you in the future, since you wandered into my little trap."

Flannel took this time to transform as well, nearly tripling the mage's height in his beast form. But the dark mage was confident still, even in the face of two obviously stronger enemies. He chuckled, and turned to face the Nosferatu that were under his command.

"Kill them."

The monsters broke from their chains, and started closing in on Flannel and Nishiki. They were not afraid, however, despite being grossly outnumbered. Nosferatu were slow and stupid creatures, and even if they packed a punch, if they could be taken out before they laid a hand on either of them. If they played to their speed and agility, then neither Nishiki nor Flannel would have anything to worry about.

And once they tore through the Nosferatu like butter, they could show that slippery mage a thing or two about true terror.

 _He was probably going to slaughter that village,_ Nishiki thought, grimacing at the thought whilst sinking his teeth and claws into a Nosferatu. _Good thing we stopped him._

Left and right, the mindless beasts were being put to rest, almost like they were flies instead of eight hundred pound terrors. It was easy, seeing as Flannel crushed them and tore them apart, while Nishiki struck them down like giant towers that were meant to fall. Things seemed under control for the most part, and Nishiki vaguely wondered if the dark mage even knew what he was up against.

In the next instant, Nishiki felt pain. Not any usual pain, or the dull blunt of a Nosferatu's fist, but a pain that was burning like _hellfire_ and spread its way from his legs upwards, causing him to recoil wildly. The more he flailed, the more pain he felt, and the fiery sensation lit up his muscles like cinders, and made his movements feel ashy and unstable. It was not until he looked down, did he realize what was going on.

He was standing in a pool of rancid waste, the same waste that had corpses and magic and terror, such that terrible Nosferatu were born from its pits. It was the very acid that was meant to destroy Hoshidans, to dull the light they so naturally exuded. He could feel the toxins shoot up and spread through him like wildfire.

It made him feel sluggish. The endless energy that he came fighting with was being diminished, gradually but surely. It would be easy to jump out from the waste and recover, but the Nosferatu had surrounded him. At that point, it came down to plainly slaughtering them, but each time he landed a blow, his feet landed back in the sludge, making him feel tired and hurt again.

He settled for using the Nosferatu to his advantage, leaping from one to another while trying to kill them, not once stepping down from their bulky shoulders or heads. This allowed him to fight, but not to be hindered by the gross poison that lay at their feet. He was lucky enough that they were too stupid to think before they acted, and Nishiki would trick them into punching each other.

All was going well, until he felt a harsh beam fire into his back, making him scream out in agony. He slipped from the Nosferatu's shoulders, and landed in the dark substance.

"Did you forget about me?" the dark mage taunted. "The spell 'Resire' does wonders. While making you weaker, it makes _me_ stronger. It heals me, and hurts you! You'll be dead before you know it, foxy."

Nishiki was worried that he might be right. The Nosferatu were pounding on him now, the only thing saving him was his innate speed. But each blow he dodged used up more energy, and the acid that he was stuck was chipping away at his energy, at his speed. At one point, he tripped over himself and he could not find the strength to prop himself back up.

The youko saw a large, green fist rise up, and figured that that fist would land itself permanently in his face. He prepared himself for the worst, but felt no unbearable weight. Instead, he felt a rush of wind, and the spray of ungodly blood spatter on his face.

It was Flannel. The garou tore into the monster with ease, tearing his whole arm through its chest, and ripping it apart from its core. He howled victoriously, and bounded through the toxins and Nosferatu to reach Nishiki.

The fox felt itself be carried up and hoisted, as even in his true form, he was smaller than Flannel. The garou wasted no time, and ran out from the clearing. They could hear the laughter of the dark mage behind them, and Nishiki cursed himself for being so careless.

At the same time, he thanked himself for having such a good friend, and trusted that Flannel would take care of him for a little while. Nishiki, feeling truly tired for the first time in his life, closed his eyes and fell asleep instantly.

...

"I went back for that guy," Flannel commented. Together with Nishiki, the two of them were sitting on a hill, watching the sunset.

Nishiki sighed, and wrapped his tail around himself. "The mage? Did you kill him?"

"Of course. He hurt us. He almost _killed_ you."

"I guess I underestimated them," Nishiki said softly. "I didn't know how strong that anti-Hoshidan stuff could be."

"It must have been," Flannel murmured. "I didn't feel anything at all. I didn't even notice you were getting hurt until it was almost too late."

"Sorry about that," He consoled. "Thanks for taking care of me and bringing me to the healers' tent."

"You don't need to thank me, dummy." He turned his gaze, staring at the setting sun. The rain had cleared a long time ago. "Just be careful next time. You're no use to anyone dead."

"Fufu. I'll keep that in mind, Flannel. Say, we never found the stash you hid underground."

"We'll get it next time. We could get it now, if you want." Flannel glanced over at him, noticing his friend's graceful figure, even in the sunset light. "You up for it?"

"No way," Nishiki scoffed. "I'm exhausted."

"That sucks."

"No," he denied. "Actually, it's kind of refreshing. But next time I'll go with you, for sure."

"It's a promise, then. If you forget, I'm never forgiving you."

He chuckled, and leaned his head on Flannel's shoulder, so that he could rest a little bit. His hair was brown and messy, flat against the other's shoulder. His ears, soft and still, were very much in the way. And while Flannel shifted slightly, he made no motion to shoo him off. Rather, he let him stay where he was, almost as if he was enjoying this moment himself.

Nishiki looked up at him, and with his usually bright gaze, said:

"If I forget, then I don't deserve to be forgiven."


	6. F

**Flannel**

n. _a kind of soft-woven fabric, typically made of wool or cotton and slightly milled and raised._

( n. In reference to Fire Emblem Fates: _Flannel_ _is a Garou, beings capable of turning into werewolf-like creatures. Living in Nohr, he is the leader of his pack. If he achieves an S-Support with another unit, he will have a daughter named Velour._ )

* * *

The garou had his morning rituals, much to everyone's surprise. Someone as eccentric as him seemed to warrant his own way of doing things, but each morning he made a habit of doing the same things over and over again.

His abode was messy, littered with the things that Flannel treasured. The smell was strange, like that of dust, rotted fruit, and old satin all mixed into one weird odor. But at least it was not the death-reeking place that some of the soldiers feared it to be, considering that the garou was known to keep human remains on his person.

Either way, each morning he would go through and organize his collection. Unlike his Hoshidan counterpart, he did not put so much care into his grooming, and settled for a quick brush (mostly just to detangle), and a quick rinse, but not anything luxurious like Nishiki's two-hour long bubble baths or collection of eight different brushes for a single head of hair.

Thinking of the youko and his silly ways made Flannel laugh, and a long look in the mirror assessed that he was ready to head out, goofy smile and all.

He just had to be careful not to step on any of the spikes or shards of glass that littered the floor. Those objects were laborious to retrieve, and no doubt they would not be worth much if they ended up wedged inside the soft soles of Flannel's feet. And yet, no amount of precaution could stop him from breaking a few bones or two as he tripped near his bedside.

 _Oh well,_ he thought, _I'll go get some more today._ With a disgruntled shake, Flannel managed to toss the broken bone shards off of himself, barely ducking in time in order to dodge the fishing net that were hanging above him. And with that, he finally escaped the obstacle course that was his room.

...

The winter has finally claimed Kamui's side of the world. Everyone knows this, because it gets too cold to leave windows open at night. They know this because the autumnal weeds start to wilt, and crops are not yielding as well as they used to. People are wearing more layers, and there are less complaints about armor and how heat-absorbent it is.

The winter has finally come.

Flannel loves the winter, as well. This time of year is great for hunting, on account most animals are weakened by the cold, or are in a rush to hibernate or travel south. This time of year, predators like the wolfish garou thrive.

Even if the rest of his pack were still on Mount Garou, he could already imagine the hunting parties they were assembling, and the sterile smell of blood and snow mixing together.

He brought it upon himself to go hunting, too. With a lack of hunting grounds in Kamui's fort, Flannel desired the boundless pantry that was the outside world. And while wanting to leave the astral plane was not uncommon, he figured that someone or another would notice his repeated absents, and might relay such information back to someone that mattered.

He was mostly disheartened, thinking that all attempts to hunt were thwarted by such social bindings. Luckily for him, Kamui and Lilith managed to do that space-warp thing they like to do, and together they formed a fresh, forested hunting range for the army to ravage on a daily basis. Flannel did not hesitate to pick up the first hunting duty, and with great satisfaction he headed into the thick brush of the new hunting grounds.

Things were familiar once again, as he used his pure instincts and rage to guide himself, bringing down everything from the deer to the wild boars. No one was better at him when it came to hunting boars, (except for Mozume, but he would never admit it) and nothing was more satisfactory than a hog's dying squeal.

The garou had at least two hundred pounds worth of catch, and was prepared to drag them back to the mess hall. But before he could even start tying up the corpses, he heard a noise in the bushes behind him, and prepared himself for another hunt. But he noticed two distinct ears sticking out from the leaves. They were brown, pointed, and adorned with patches of fur. He sighed, partly relieved, but partly annoyed as well.

"Nishiki, stop sneaking around. I almost mistook you for a wild animal. I nearly thought about attacking you."

"Shh!" He hissed out, ears twitching curiously. "Flannel, just come here."

"Why? What's in there...-"

"-...Just come here! But be quiet, okay?"

The wolf sighed, but dragged his feet along anyways. He parted the bushes, and saw his youko friend crouched on the ground, as if observing something. Moving in closer, he finally saw what the other meant.

It was a snake. A serpent at the very least, and it was coiled but even then they could tell right away that it was very, _very_ long. The scales were a multitude of colors, mostly reds and oranges, but Flannel saw some bluish scales on its underbelly. On the snake's forehead was a divet, which made brow-like structures appear above its eyes. From its soft, barely-moving body, they decided that it was asleep.

 _Gods,_ Flannel thought, _That would look good in my collection._

"I've never seen a snake like this," Nishiki muttered quietly. "And it's been a while since I had one, too."

"Wait, we're gonna _eat_ it?"

"Well, it's in the hunting forest. Why not?" Nishiki frowned. "I hope you don't want to take its corpse. I think it's really icky when you do stuff like that."

"I can't take its corpse if you're gonna eat it," Flannel sighed. "So, just kill it already."

"Hmm, maybe. I know a compromise, I think! Why don't we bring it back to the mess hall, skin it, and I can have the meat while you can take its cool scales!"

The wolf's tail started wagging at that prospect, but he quickly tried to hide it as he faked disinterest. "Honestly, it doesn't matter what you wanna do. It's just a snake."

Nishiki smiled. "Well, why don't you help me, then? It's a pretty long snake."

"Fine, but only because you asked me to!"

The fox nodded, and quickly raised a claw to strike the creature. A beautiful thing it was, but to be in a forest specifically designed for hunting only had to mean one thing. Its death was purposeful, and while its beauty would disappear, its life would not go to waste. If Nishiki thought about it that way, he figured that it was better for them to find it and kill it now, before some other insignificant soldier did.

Before he could strike it, the snake opened its eyes, bright yellow green irises staring straight ahead at the two beasts, slit-like pupils dilating. It shot out, as if to attack, and Nishiki ducked, yelping in the way that foxes do. He scratched at its surface, a soft spray of blood meeting his body. The serpent hissed, and started stretching out to its full length, slithering away in order to escape.

Flannel got the jump on it, digging his claws into the body. The snake hissed out something like a scream, and its wild movements reflected its attitude.

It turned around to face the mammals, and this time there was vengeance in its jewel-like eyes. Its fangs were dripping with an off-colored serum, and a single word resounded in their heads.

_Poison._

The snake reminded Nishiki of a bolt of lightning, the way its body contorted into a weird angle, and how it lashed out too suddenly for the normal eye to see. Fortunately he was a youko, and he could easily evade the serpent's toxic bite when it came shooting at him.

"Just kill it already!" Flannel growled, grabbing the reptile by the shorter end of its tail.

"Easy for _you_ to say!" Nishiki whined, trying to get at the creature's mouth without getting bitten. "This thing is stronger than I gave it credit for."

"Then _I'll_ take care of it," the garou insisted, and with a sharp tug he pulled the snake back, forcing it to retract its length, distancing itself from the Hoshidan.

It leered at Flannel, but the wolf was thoughtless as he went for a lethal strike to the serpent's mid-section. Noticing this, the snake raised its bottom half, using pure muscle to smack into the garou as forcefully as it could. Flannel stumbled, but was quick to recover. Any moment of weakness could allow an opening to which the snake would use to strike.

And if Flannel were to be the first hunter injured in the forest, he would never hear the end of it.

In a quick movement, the garou lurched forward as he raised his claws, planning to hit a final blow. He was true in his aim, and managed to cleave straight through the snake's body. In those short moments, Flannel found his gaze connecting with Nishiki's, the youko's body moving in tandem with his, as their claws were only inches away from clashing with one another. Instead, their sharp surfaces found nothing but the satisfying softness of the snake's body, and in movements that mirrored one another, they smiled and relished in this strange instant that they shared.

The snake gave a dying screech, before becoming a motionless lump before their eyes. The two of them were across from each other, seemingly satisfied with what they have accomplished.

"Nice job," Nishiki praised, flicking crimson stains off of his cheek. "I guess we're both pretty alike, striking it in the same place like that."

"I guess so," Flannel said, quickly turning away to pick up the dead chunks of snake. "Let's take this and the rest of the game back to the mess hall."

The fox stared at the small mountain of cadavers behind them, giving a deep sigh. "Yeah, the sooner the better."

Nishiki made a point of not directly touching any more of the cadavers than he had to, fingers barely grasping onto the nape of a dead moose. Silently, the two of them started dragging their prizes through the woods, leaving broken trails of blood behind, that which greatly contrasted with their smiles and their sturdy sense of mind and body.

 _It's just as well,_ Flannel thought, _that it's us two here again._

_You're not too bad, Nishiki._

...

The two of them arrived at the mess hall, and started skinning their snake among the others they caught, all with the help of an eager Mozume.

"Thanks for helping," Nishiki said to the girl. "I appreciate it!"

"No problem, boys." She smiled. "I'm on mess hall duty, anyways. Might as well do my best. And not to mention how impressive this haul is. Why, I haven't seen a snake like this since I was back at the village!"

"Really?" Nishiki asked. "Are they rare?"

"You bet your tail they are. I only saw one _once,_ but I was a young'un, so I couldn't go after it."

"How long do you think this thing is?" Flannel suddenly cut in, scoping the snake in its full scale, as it lay dead and uncoiled before them. "At least twenty feet, right?"

"Surely it's gotta be more. It almost goes all across the tables!" Mozume exclaimed, pointing down at the end of the mess hall with her skinning knife. "Snake meat is actually pretty tasty, if the right person makes it."

"So you can make this thing into a pretty dish, maybe?" The youko piped up. "I would eat it raw, but all those small bones aren't very appealing."

"I'll see what I can do," Mozume assured, brown eyes full of determination. She brought her earthy stare in Flannel's direction, asking him kindly: "And should I make some for you, too, Flannel? You caught all these animals after all."

"I just want the skin," he admitted. "I already took the horns, organs, and teeth from all the other animals, so whatever you do with them now is your deal."

"Oh," she deadpanned. "Well, if you're ever hungry, just drop by. Also, I don't know how healthy it is to keep their entrails and such by your side...I can't imagine it smells all good."

"Actually, this smells _pretty good,_ " Flannel huffed, almost smug in his appreciation of the macabre. "But whatever. I'll see you later, maybe."

He started walking away from them, but Nishiki's cheerful voice quickly stole his attention again.

"Hey, Flannel! Let's go hunting again soon!"

The wolf surprised himself when he replied nearly instantly.

"Yeah," he said, smiling with his back turned to the other. "I would like that."

...

When Flannel returned to his room, he noticed that his shirt was completely torn on one side, and he figured that he got a bit rough with his hunting earlier. A quick leer of crimson eyes in the mirror helped form his frustration that he was feeling. He had said at some point that being 'ragged' and messy was his preference, but that did not warrant his clothes being torn apart, or losing his semblance of cleanliness altogether.

_And this is my favorite shirt. Guess I shouldn't have been so eager to hunt, but it was nice while it lasted, at least._

He started undressing himself, and discarded his torn shirt for a newer one. It was not his favorite replacement, but it was the only one that was properly cleaned. Similar to his usual getup, the difference in the new shirt was that it had pockets that were checkered in bright colors, in a material that had the same name as him. The design was a bit more garish than Flannel would like, but he put that aside, seeing as it sufficed for the time being.

Flannel sat down on his bed, and idly stared at the ceiling. After a moment or so, he removed his gloves, and began meddling with the medallion that he still had. His feelings towards the object (and Kamui, respectively) were mixed, that of respect for the gift's meaning, and hate of its origins. But his fingers along the smooth surface brought about a sense of comfort, strangely enough, and when he hung it on his neck, he felt a light feeling bubble in his chest.

 _Must be that magic that Nishiki said it had,_ he thought, staring at himself in the mirror. _It actually looks good on me. Ugh._

A knock on his door startled him, and as if he was ashamed to have been playing with it in the first place, Flannel stuffed the accessory in one of his overcrowded dresser drawers. He shoved it close in his haste, and went to answer the door.

Behind it was Nishiki, although Flannel could tell it was him before that, simply from the overly perfumed smell of his hair. Even if the youko had just been sweating and running in the woods earlier, he still stunk of the sickeningly sweet, human soap that he loved using.

The wolf tried to hide his dislike.

"Need somethin'?" He greeted casually.

"You're on lottery duty," Nishiki informed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Elfie wanted me to tell you that. And I owe her from the last battle, so..."

"So you told me yourself," Flannel finished. He stepped out into the hall, closing his door behind him. "Well, I actually like working at the lottery shop. Even if the prizes are shoddy."

"The prizes are _actually_ worth something," Nishiki pointed out. "But I haven't played it at all today, so when you get there, I'll be the first one up!"

The wolf smiled, voice lilting in an easy, playful manner. "You should have asked Elfie before her shift was over."

"I could have," the fox explained, picking for stray hairs on his tail. "But I wanted to wait until you showed up. I feel like I would do better if you were there."

"Well, if you get a bronze prize, don't blame me."

"I won't. I'm feeling lucky."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, I feel like," Nishiki paused, and took a small breath, "like, I don't know. Like I'll do well. Like there's something good in the air. Don't you feel like that?"

Flannel noticed how coincidental it was, that Nishiki talked about good feelings just as the stone castle floors transformed into grass beneath their feet, and the open air of the fort breezed by them, along with the sun that shined in an angle that was _just_ right.

Red eyes met brown, and within them was a new kind of joy that invigorated the color, like pulsing blood or shining rubies.

Confidently, he agreed.

"I'm feeling pretty good myself. Must be something in the water."


	7. G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some jealous thoughts in this chapter.   
> Which, is, not my favorite chapter that I've written so far. I had constant trouble and had rewritten multiple drafts before I settled on the one I liked the most. That aside, I thank everyone for their kind words and reads, and hope for continued support in the future!

**Garb**

n. _clothing or dress, especially of a distinctive or special kind._

* * *

Winter was harsh. Nishiki knew this, because the sun was no longer as friendly or frequent. The day that he and Flannel went hunting in the new grounds was the warmest day of that week, and it was evident that the temperature would keep dropping and dropping from that point. Soon enough the first snow of the season would hit, and there would be no lasting remnants of autumn warmth.

"Do you like the snow, Flannel?"

Nishiki asked this as the two of them stood outside of the mess hall, holding leftover rice balls from the afternoon's lunch. They stood there, watching the crisp air in anticipation of long awaited snow, but found nothing white except the color of their wintry breaths.

Although part of Flannel's hair was white, and Nishiki vaguely wondered if it was the white or the black that was his natural hair color.

 _Because it can't be both,_ he thought, _that's silly._

"I do," Flannel answered. He unwrapped a leftover rice ball, and devoured it easily. When it was finished, he cleared his throat before adding on: "Winter's a good time of year."

"I think so, too. It's fun to play and hunt."

"I'm not sure about the playing part," Flannel said, folding his arms. "But it's nice. Back at Mount Garou, we're all usually such a proud bunch, but even the best of us can't resist a little bit of snow."

"I know what you mean! The hamlet where the other youkos are is the perfect place for running around and having fun." Nishiki sighed, and watched as his breath rose like steam, fading away in the cold air after a second or two. "It almost makes me homesick, honestly."

"Me too," the wolf admitted, eating more of his leftovers. He watched as the other breathed out purposely, so as to watch the wispy breaths form into something bigger, whiter, and colder. They joked it was their 'dragon breath', even though they were not dragons, and the one dragon they _did_ know did not breathe any differently than usual.

The garou laughed a little _too_ hard, and ended up having a violent coughing fit due to the rice stuck in his throat.

He took a minute or two to fix himself proper, and once he was settled, continued talking to Nishiki. "Do you ever think about visiting home? Just because we joined an army doesn't mean we don't have to visit."

"I always think about visiting, but then I get caught up in stuff here. It's not so bad, though. There's plenty of time to go home when everything is resolved," the fox explained. His voice was even, but there was a sudden lull in it that made Flannel suspicious. _He probably misses it a lot,_ he thought, _poor guy._

"Maybe you're right."

"Maybe."

They fell back into silence, saying nothing as their soft breaths turned white like snow, but melted into the air without so much as a trace.

...

Colder seasons called for warmer measures. The furnace in the smithy was a popular place to keep warm, the records library was a good place to huddle, and prisoners in the jail were grateful that the steel walls kept out the cold, and that torches illuminated the dark hallways.

There was an unsurprising increase in demand for blankets and firewood, and soldiers who usually wore armor made up excuses as to why they started wearing them at all times, not just for battle or training.

"Well," Cyrus said, "I'm always armed and ready in case something happens, it's just a coincidence that this also keeps me warm..."

"Not for me," Pieri giggled. "I'm _totally_ wearing this on purpose."

"The training stones I wear in my armor are also warm," Elfie piped in. "But a true knight can handle any weather, I think."

Flannel, not wearing any sort of armor himself, lost interest in the conversation, and naturally moved along to find someone else to talk to. Of course, his first option fell to Nishiki. The two of them have forged a friendship that was standing for months long now, but he was also the only person that Flannel felt like he could _really_ talk to, without having his quirks be written off as a 'garou thing'.

So when the wolf noticed that the fox was occupied, he felt a sting of betrayal. By nature, garou were normally very possessive, and such behaviors were seen as normal, but even Flannel himself had to wonder why he was so suddenly hurt when he saw that Nishiki was speaking to someone else. A pretty, poised, playful little someone else.

 _So what if he's talking to Orochi?_ Flannel thought to himself bitterly. _It's not like he's entitled to only me, or anything..._

And yet, there was something about the two of them that made Flannel's heart stir. Their body language, for one, was noticeably distinct. It was hard to miss it, what with Nishiki's lean build arced forward, his lips poised in sweet, smooth movements by Orochi's ear, whispering and laughing about things that he could not hear. And Orochi's movements were obvious, as well. The diviner, whose lips were curled into a genuine smile and not the usual devious grin, whose hand was strikingly close to the other's, just close enough to caress him. Her legs were crossed and she was leaning oh-so-carefully, such that Flannel wondered if Nishiki could see her breasts as easily as _he_ could from that angle.

The wolf was not usually this selfish nor critical in his thoughts, and yet there was a dark urge brimming within him, the kind that desired attention and control over anything else. It made Flannel seem strange and guilty, and he fought against the unknown sensation that pulsated within his chest. He decided that there was no reason to be so cynical towards the two of them, even if the smiles they were sharing together made him feel so hollow.

...

"They get cold easily," Nishiki suddenly commented.

The two of them were alone in the smithy shop, Nishiki having the current shift. The furnace was warm, and the people who had gathered there earlier had left for some reason or another. The garou did not mind, he preferred spending time with the youko alone.

Flannel's ears twitched, but he ultimately showed no signs of caution as he slumped against the heated walls.

"Who does?"

"Humans. They're all wearing such thick coats now, even Orochi who told me she hated wearing such heavy clothing."

"Well, they don't exactly have the ability to turn into a fur-covered, heat-insulating animal at will."

"You're right about that," The fox sighed. "But I heard it might snow tonight, so maybe I shouldn't tease them too much. It gets cold for me, too."

"Really? Is that why you wear that scarf all the time?"

The youko looked down, and tugged at the edge of the fabric. The scarf was warm, comfortable to wear. It was always on his person, even in the sweltering summer sun. But he loved the scarf, such that the simple thought of it made him smile.

"No, I wear it because I like it. Even when it's hot, I just like wearing it. Is that weird?"

"H-How would I know? It's _your_ scarf," Flannel muttered, turning his gaze. "But it's nice, at least. Must be warm."

"It is. Say, you're lightly dressed too, y'know. I have a scarf but you don't. Don't _you_ ever get cold?"

With the conversation suddenly turning on him, Flannel scoffed, quickly covering up any evidence of his embarrassment.

"Of course I do. Fur or not, there's only so much a person can take on their own. And well, I'm sitting by the furnace for a reason..."

"Yeah, I guess so. It's fine if you sit there, though. No one's here, and business is slow today." He propped his chin in his hands, sliding his arms forward on the counter. Normally he would not keep such sloppy posture, but a moment or two of laziness should be fine.

For a while, there was nothing but the sound of the furnace burning, and the assistant in the back moving about. Even then, the soldier stepped out from his spot, patting Nishiki on the back. _There's no one here,_ he said, _I should end my shift now._ And Flannel supposed he would have done the same, considering there was no reason to keep working if there were no customers present.

When the worker left, the open door allowed a wave of frigid air to come in, its chill cutting through the warmth that the furnace had made. Flannel shivered, mumbling something about the cold under his breath.

Nishiki noticed this, and smiled to himself as he stepped out and around from the counter, and walked purposefully towards the garou. Flannel, in turn, looked up from his spot, curious as to why the other had gotten up so suddenly.

He said nothing as the youko removed his navy blue scarf, tugging gently at its edges. And he remained silent, as Nishiki wrapped the scarf around _Flannel's_ neck instead, fingers warm and gentle as they brushed along his skin. Their touch lingered longer than their actual contact, and the sensation of his closeness and breath made his breath hitch silently, heart stir wildly.

Flannel looked up, annoyed with such a forward gesture, and wanting to search for the answer. But instead, he met Nishiki's bright gaze, which was full of a deep kindness and framed with long, perfect lashes. His hair dangled like strands of the orange sunset caught in the light, casting off a soft, poised shape. In that picturesque moment, Flannel wanted to find a terrible, silly fault in the other, but he found nothing but friendliness and ingenuity.

It was then that Flannel realized that Nishiki's claim of being 'the most beautiful creature alive' might not be too far from the truth.

And his emotions conflicted once again, as a nagging feeling of embarrassment bubbled within him, and the wolf thought about how embarrassing he was being, spewing words that were so seemingly _smitten._

He tried to deny it, and filled his head with new thoughts of stubbornness.

_What's this guy thinking? Moving so suddenly like that, really..._

"What was _that_ about?" Flannel whined, hiding his face in the folds of the scarf. "You shouldn't move so suddenly like that, y'know..."

It was no surprise that the fabric smelled like Nishiki. It smelled like his terrible soap and sweet scent, with hints of fresh mint underneath. Brisk, clean, yet friendly. Much like its owner, the scarf lingered of distinct presence and warmth.

It was the youko's essence in cloth form, and Flannel had buried himself in it. Even if it was futile to pretend, he shot an accusing look at the other, like he was _disgusted_ that Nishiki wrapped his scarf around him to begin with.

(Disgusted by his sweetness, his beauty)

"You looked cold," Nishiki said simply, smiling like he always does. "If you want, I can take it off. Maybe I should have asked first?"

"You _should_ have," Flannel cut in, turning his face from the other. "...But I'll keep it on, for now. While it's warm..."

"Heh, alright."

The fox lowered himself so he could sit next to the wolf. His fingers, slender and soft, brushed against Flannel's digits, and the latter shuddered. Because as warm and close as Nishiki was, his movements were still so faint, so light that not even a garou's heightened sense could expect them.

The way that he moved, so whimsically yet distantly, reminded Flannel of a ghost, or an angel.

 _Oh, and now I'm supposed to be poetic?_ Flannel joked dryly in his head. _What's with you right now, Flannel? Pull yourself together._

Silence formed between them again, and the wolf was thankful. His head was loud enough with screaming thoughts and burning feelings, he did not need the other's usual jibes to throw itself into the mix of uncertainty. The sound of Flannel's heart thrummed loudly in his mind, and when he closed his eyes he swore that was all he felt. All but the sensation of warmth and cold spreading through him at once, and the fleeting touch of Nishiki's heated hands and Flannel's own cold denial.

When everything settled in his mind again, he spoke carefully, so as to not reveal any more of his emotional weakness than was necessary.

"I see why you like this now. It's not bad, but I couldn't wear it for too long."

"I understand. I almost feel bare without it on, y'know? It's like a necessary thing for me."

The garou turned around, and noticed that Nishiki did seem different without his scarf on. The accessory, as frivolous as it was, was an essential part of the youko's garb. He seemed incomplete without it.

Coincidentally, while staring at his neck, Flannel noticed next to it a small bauble hanging from his hair so low that had he worn the scarf like usual, he might not have seen it. Without the scarf, however, the hair accessory was visible on Nishiki's person, and it piqued Flannel's curiosity almost instantly.

"Do you usually wear that? It's hard to tell, since you usually wear this scarf."

"Oh, this?" The Hoshidan looked down, and twirled the small trinket around his finger. "Orochi gave me this."

There was a feeling in his stomach, and it was not the usual light, happy feeling the medallion gave him. It was a heavy weight, almost, full of anxiety that threatened to swell and break. Flannel gulped, and tried to shove away his dislike rising in his throat.

"Did she? What for? Just as a gift?"

"In the past, she helped me out with a favor. I helped her, too, so I guess this was her way of repaying me. It's kind of silly, isn't it?"

Flannel stared at the object. It was a small hair pin, connected on a string. The center of it was adeep jade color, such that reminded Flannel of the treetops in the forest, or the grass in the fields. Surrounding it was a body of silver, shinier than any of the ore they had in the smithy. It was clear to see that such an object was bought somewhere outside their astral fort, and that it was a souvenir from some beautiful land.

It was meant to be given as a precious gift. And oddly, it suited Nishiki. It was beautiful, mundane, but thoughtful. It matched its recipient in such a way that Flannel knew some thought was put behind in giving it to him in the first place.

He looked away from it, muttering out a lackluster response.

"Yeah, but it's yours. You must like it."

"I do! I love anything beautiful," he admitted, scratching at his ears. "I'm just surprised she gave me this. I'll have to repay her again."

"I'm sure she would like it if you just accepted it silently, and didn't do the whole repayment thing that you normally do."

"But I have to!" Nishiki insisted. "No matter what kind of person they are, if someone is nice to me, I have to pay them back!"

"Even if they're the enemy?"

"An enemy doesn't necessarily mean they're an evil person," Nishiki said. "I don't like to think of anyone as evil before I get to know them."

"I see. Well, what about me? You don't really know what kind of person _I_ am, so would you just repay me back just because I did something nice to you?"

"You're really curious, this evening." He pointed out. "You're asking a _lot_ of questions! Is something up?"

"Just answer them," Flannel pressed, voice quickening under the pressure. "Please?"

"Some people are different, Flannel. Some people that I trust or are close friends with, sometimes I'll just do things for the sake of doing them, not because I actually owe them anything."

"And...?"

"And you're the first person that I think I'm _really_ close to, genuinely. There are people back at the hamlet at home, but you're always close to family." A small smile etched itself on his face, and Nishiki laughed in spite of himself. "So, of course, for _you,_ I'd probably do nice things just because I wanted to!"

Hearing that affirmation made Flannel smile, and eased the swelling anxiety inside. He almost forgot why he felt that in the first place. With a sigh, the garou started to unwrap the scarf from his neck.

Handing it to Nishiki, the wolf said: "Thanks. I feel the same way, y'know. I sorta see you in a different light now, I guess. You're not bad, Nishiki."

The fox wrapped the scarf back on its in proper place and giggled. "Well, I try my best. I guess I should start closing up, though. I don't think anyone's gonna come late into the night for some forging."

...

The two of them parted ways, and Flannel grinned as he waved goodbye to the other. He saw that the hairpin that Orochi had given Nishiki was still on him, hanging from a silken thread in his hair. Such a small thing had sent his heart into such a frenzy, sent his emotions into a dark haze. It was shameful, to think that he had so easily overreacted to everything.

And like the bauble in Nishiki's hair, Flannel would tuck that feeling away underneath the surface, where he would deal with it one day.

But not today.

Today, instead, the Nohrian would focus on the more important things in his life. He would focus on his dust bunnies and his hunting, pay attention to his clothes and his surroundings, and give way to his friends, his comrades.

Today, Flannel would disregard everything, even if it meant leaving him alone with his own hesitation and doubt.


	8. H

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very long, and is twice as long as the usual chapter lengths have been. I tried my best to shorten it, but it just got away from me. I apologize for that.   
> Also, in the Japanese version, Pieri speaks in third person, and I personally prefer that quirk, so I decided to use it here.

**Hamlet**

n. _a small settlement, generally one smaller than a village._

* * *

The first snow of the winter season had come early in the morning. The sun was barely peaking over the horizon when the clouds had poured their snow out in a slow, gradual fall towards the ground. The astral plane was no stranger to the weather, so even in Kamui's dimensional fort the snow fell down like it would anywhere else in the world.

It was breathtaking in both the literal and figurative sense. The ivory flakes of snow were wondrous and delicate and melted on the tongue _just_ like childhood stories expected them to. But it was still _snow_ , which was essentially frozen water, and it was awfully cold, especially when the earth iced over and the white covered every inch of the ground. Soldiers dreaded going outside, and the buildings and shops that once stood as friendly providers started looking like stone sentinels, blocking all heat the off and remaining terribly frigid. Even the smithy's furnace refused to warm up fast enough for the humans to feel at ease.

Even _Nishiki_ felt the cold biting into him, catching him as he shuddered in the wintry air. To forget the troubles of the cold, the youko decided to run a few rounds to keep his blood pumping. Yet he was careful enough to make sure that the exercise would not cause him to sweat.

Because sweat was gross.

"This place looks dead."

Nishiki turned around, and noticed Flannel coming up behind him. His voice was curt, but nothing short of the usual attitude. From the way his eyes lowered, however, the Hoshidan could tell that the gloomy atmosphere was affecting even Flannel.

The youko sighed, as a result. "You're telling me."

"The Nohrians are usually fine with this kind of weather, so I'm surprised that they're this quiet."

"Well, it _is_ pretty cold, even for winter. Hoshido's season gets like this, too, but I guess it's just a slow morning for everyone."

"Yeah, maybe." Flannel watched the flakes drift lazily to the ground, sticking like paste to the icy stone. He turned one of the rocks over with his foot, and said quietly: "I'm heading out today."

"Going hunting? Or just strolling around?"

"Neither," he answered, "I'm going home."

The fox blinked, lifting his eyebrows in surprise. "You're dropping out of the army? Is that even _allowed?_ "

"Not like that, I'm just visiting." Flannel explained, sighing deeply. "The other day, when we talked about the folks at home, I got kinda sad. It's been months since I last saw anyone from the pack. Not many of 'em can read, so sending a letter would be a waste of time."

Nishiki perked up, relieved to know that his friend was not trying to leave the army like he feared he would. The mention of family, however, made Nishiki's heart yearn. He missed his fellow youkos, as well. He reminisced over their scent, their warmth, and their companionship. He missed the people that he's known and loved since he was young, his friends and family that looked so much like him. Nishiki once played the role of their leader, and while he was never the strict type, he knew that he played an important role in their lives.

The feeling of nostalgia was so new to Nishiki. Before joining Kamui's cause, he never once had strayed from home for so long. He left frequently, but his absences lasted a week long, at most. Months have passed since his last visit, and he supposed that his coming home (even for just a little while) was long overdue.

"No, I get what you're saying! It _has_ been a long time, for both of us," Nishiki sighed. "I think I'll go visit the youko hamlet, too."

The wolf smiled, and nodded at the other in assent. "Sounds good. Never hurts to get back to your roots, y'know? Anyways, I guess I'll see you later, then."

"I guess so. Say hi to your folks for me!"

"Likewise."

The two of them thus parted, the strong feeling of homesickness never leaving either of them.

...

The fox wondered if he should have told anyone that he was leaving beforehand. But he figured that he could be in and out of the hamlet in a day or two, and that his absence would have gone so quickly that no one would even notice he was missing in the first place.

And if they did, well, he supposed he would have to deal with that when the time comes. But Nishiki set everything aside in light of his escape, and focused solely on his journey back to the tribe. His fellow youkos lived deep in the southern-most mountains of Hoshido. The closest point that the astral plane would allow him to get there was at a small, rural village that was at least fifty miles off from his destination. Yet he did not complain, because he _could_ have been dropped off somewhere farther. He supposed that he owed a lot to Lilit, or whoever was out there that made it possible for him to travel between dimensions in the first place.

Just as he was about to sneak out of the castle gates, however, he heard the soft patter of footsteps behind him. It was the sound of someone or another that caught him escaping at the last second.

 _Uh-oh,_ he thought, _better come up with an excuse, and fast!_

"Nishiki?"

He forced on a friendly smile, hoping its brightness would be enough to cover up the intense nervousness he felt inside. Turning around, he did his best and greeted the single person that could ruin his plans entirely. And when Nishiki saw exactly who it was, he could not help but curse mentally.

"Orochi," he greeted calmly. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just about to ask you that," she smirked, placing her hands on her hips triumphantly. "Sneaking around, are we? I'll have you know, Nishiki, being absent so often usually allows room for nasty rumors."

"I know," the fox sighed. "I know, I'll explain it all to Kamui or whoever later. This is more important than any gossip, though. So, I'll see you later!"

"Wait," the diviner cut in, sounding slightly serious for once. "Is everything alright? I've never seen you look so troubled before."

The youko could feel the impatience rising within him. If he did not owe Orochi the favors that he did, he would have just ran off already. But her intense stare, coupled with his own hindering kindness, forced him to stay put just a little longer. "I'm fine, I just have to go."

"Go _where?_ Where do you have to go that is so important that you have to try and sneak out, instead of just telling everyone your intentions? I mean, if it's personal, then..."

"I'm going back to visit my home."

She blinked, curiosity gleaming in her violet eyes. "Your home? Where all the other youkos are?"

"Yes, that place." Nishiki chuckled. "I've never been gone so long before, you see. And I figured that I could afford to leave for a day or two, even if it's just to see my family again."

"Wow. That's really sweet of you, Nishiki. Here I was, thinking there was some grooming parlor out there that you were dying to go see, but you were actually thinking of others instead! I'm moved."

"Uh-huh, great. I'll just be on my way, then..."

" _But,_ " Orochi interrupted, face shifting into her trademark smile. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to you while you're out crossing the mountains and such."

"What do you mean? I'll be fine, it's my home, and I...-"

Nishiki suddenly caught onto her ploy, in near disbelief of her cunning. Just as quickly as he had seen through her, he shook his head in firm denial.

" _No._ "

"I didn't even say anything!"

"You want to go with me, don't you?"

"Well, if you're asking, I might as well!"

A groan. "Orochi, you _can't_ come with me. It's family business, it'd be weird to have you there, y'know?"

"I won't get in the way," she assured, swaying her body back and forth. "I'm curious, is all. And I'm genuinely worried you'll run too fast and fall into a cave, or something. I'll even cover for you when we get back, saying that you were helping me with some divine journey or the like!"

"Really? You'd do that for me?"

"Yes, but _only_ if you let me come. If you don't, I'll just let Kamui or Ryouma know that you're skipping out again."

"That's _blackmail,_ Orochi!"

"It doesn't have to be, if you would just let me go with you."

At this point, Nishiki realized there was nothing he could do to shake her off his tail. He was a fox in every sense, but Orochi had her own clever streak that currently outmatched his. If he wanted to go visit his family without a hitch, he would have to accept her offer.

Even if it _was_ blackmail.

"Fine, fine. But don't blame me if the mountains get too steep for you. There's a reason that us foxes hide up there, anyways."

She smiled, and clapped her hands together. "Thank you, thank you! Well, let's not waste anymore time! Off to the youko mountains, we go!" In that same, swift movement, Orochi grabbed Nishiki by his hand, dragging him forcefully out the castle gates, where she exploded with giddy laughter.

Nishiki laughed, too, for Orochi's sake. Yet he could not help but feel like he had made a mistake by allowing her to come with him.

...

"Pieri, for the last time, I'm _not_ going hunting and I'm _not_ taking you with me."

Flannel was having the same troubling situation as Nishiki had, coincidentally. At the last second, right before his monochromatic self could run out through the gates, he was caught by a woman with a rather sharp eye.

And because it was _Pieri_ that caught him, she had a sharp _blade_ , as well.

"But Pieri _wants_ to go with you. Besides, you always go hunting and when Pieri asks, you say no! So what else could you be doing?"

The wolf sighed, rather frustrated by the fact that he was having this conversation at all. A myriad of thoughts ran through his mind, most that went along the line of: _Would it kill her to be understanding for once? Gods, how do I get out of this one..._

"Listen, I'm _not_ going out to hunt. I'm going out for a different reason."

"So-"

"And you _still_ can't come with me. It's personal, Pieri."

The cavalier frowned, scarlet eye burning with indignation. "Personal? Don't you think that you gave up part of your personal life by joining a _war_? Pieri has been Lord Marx's retainer for a while now, so she knows that 'personal' is just a joke."

The garou was a bit taken back by how harsh her words were, like she had tasted that bitterness of 'personal matters' herself. But of course she had to have felt pain at some point in her life, after all, eccentric personality and inhuman blood thirst aside, she was still human. She still had that basic understanding and empathy, and Flannel felt bad for undermining that quality within her.

_Maybe she'll understand._

"Fine, fine. No need to get all angry on me. I'm not going hunting, okay? I'm going to visit my _family._ "

She blinked, eyes widening as if the very concept confused her. "Your...family?"

"Yes, my family. I may be a garou, but I still got one of those. A pretty big one, too. Us wolves are normally a close knit bunch, and for me to leave so suddenly probably made them all sad. I'm just going to visit them for a day or two. Is that so bad?"

"No," Pieri said. Her eyes lowered, fixated on the movements of her anxious fingers. "No, Pieri guesses that it isn't so bad. And you're not going to kill things if you're visiting, so it'll be boring for Pieri, anyways."

Flannel sighed. He wanted to get her off of his back, but seeing her so dejected made him feel guilty. _Even though I shouldn't feel bad for wanting to see my family, but still..._ Maybe it was because it was _Pieri,_ who was so obviously broken, far beyond Flannel's own fractures. They shared a common interest in killing, as well, and he knew what it meant to have someone who understands you when no one else does.

He also knew what it felt like when that person would leave you out in the cold. And he figured that he would not do something so cruel to Pieri if he could help it.

"You should come with me, then." He relented, but did not feel so sad for doing so. "You should come with me to see my family."

Her mood visibly shifted, eyes coming alive and smile spreading wide. "Really? Do you really mean that?"

"Yes. I feel bad, 'specially since you were just worried about me. It'll be fun, too. But you can handle it, right? Being around a pack of wolves?"

She giggled hard enough that she had to hold onto Flannel's arm for support, nearly splicing its meat between her giddy, armored grip. "Yes, yes! Pieri can handle it, Pieri can take care of herself! Pieri is not weak like the others!"

The wolf smiled, and carefully snaked his arm out from her grasp. When it was free, he reached out and gently pat her head.

"No, you're not like them," he agreed, "you're stronger."

...

Nishiki did not know what to expect when he decided to bring Orochi with him. But he imagined that she would be loud and demanding, distracting him and dragging him in every which way. But the reality was that for a good half hour or so, the diviner remained utterly silent, obediently following the youko through beaten paths and down babbling brooks, all so they could make their way to the hamlet.

He almost wondered if she somehow lost her ability to talk along the way. Even if she did, he supposed it was good to stay quiet like this anyway. Sometimes, a trip was better when taken in earnest, with nothing but the sound of nature leading the way.

When Nishiki slipped by the riverbed, and landed in the water, he realized right away that he was wrong.

The diviner, who had not so much as said a word up to that point, broke out into sudden and raucous laughter. "Silly fox! Did you forget how to walk?"

"No," he deadpanned. "I just forgot about that spot, right there. Hey, quit laughing! I'm soaking wet, now!"

"Sorry, sorry," she squealed, wiping tears from her eyes. "But you should have seen your _face!_ "

"Ha, ha. Please stop laughing at me, already."

"Okay, but only because you asked nicely. Here," she handed him a towel, "take this. I brought it with me because I thought that all this running around would get me sweaty, but it serves a greater purpose now."

Nishiki sighed, and took the towel from her hands. When he regained his footing, he started drying his hair. His movements were methodical, as if he were a practiced surgeon in the field of hair care. Orochi envied the way that once dried, his hair was just as perfect as it had been before.

 _Honestly,_ she thought, _did it even get wet in the first place?_

"Impressive, Nishiki. But there's nothing too mind-blowing about a narcissist."

"Please, there's nothing narcissistic about appreciating what you _have,_ " he retorted. "I'm beautiful, obviously. I have to keep taking care of myself if I wanna keep it that way."

" _Ha,_ " Orochi joked. "Well, beautiful as you may be, don't forget that your body is more important than your hair. You should have dried off your legs first, or something. You'll catch cold."

"I might have caught cold, if I were human," Nishiki boasted, relishing in the sour look on Orochi's face. "But I'm not, so I'll be fine."

"If you say so," she said. "How far along are we, anyways? We've been hiking for hours, now."

"We're still fifty miles away, Orochi. And it's only been half an hour, actually. Don't tell me you're getting tired!"

"Of _course_ not. I was just surprised, what with you being a youko and all, that you would travel in your human form. Wouldn't you get there faster in your _real_ form?"

"I would, but I like the view around here. If you don't, then you probably should have let me go alone."

"Now, what kind of friend would I be if I left you to your own devices? Besides, for all you know, there could be traps in the mountains."

"Traps," he echoed her statement. "In _these_ mountains? This is my _home,_ Orochi. I think I could tell if there were traps or not."

"I'm sure you could, I'm only suggesting that there are somethings that not even youkos can predict. Like the future!"

"The future, huh?" His ears twitched. "I'll admit, you've got me beat when it comes to divining. But I'm sure my future will be fine if I keep walking on like always!"

"If you say so," she mused. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

He smiled softly. "I won't."

...

"This is your home?" Pieri asked, gawking at the sheer size of the mountain. It was named after its inhabitants, and much like the garou, it stood tall and intimidating. But it was more of a giant rock than a mountain. "It's so bare, it sort of like the jewel mines back at the fort!"

"It is, isn't it? There are more trees farther up, though. For the most part, this place has been my home. I've only left a handful of times before joining Kamui's army."

"Talk about secluded. But how far up is your home, exactly?"

"I'm...I'm not really sure." He saw the confused look in her eye, and he quickly added: "I'm really bad with directions, see, so I usually just keep walking until I find them."

"That's horrible! What if you never find them?"

"Well, one time, I was wandering for three days until one of my cousins spotted me. It was a hell of an embarrassing time, lemme tell ya."

"Pieri thinks you should work on your sense of direction more," she said. "Maybe this time, Pieri should lead."

" _You?_ " Flannel repeated, seemingly shocked by the proposition. "No offense, but this is _my_ home. I think if anyone should be the leader, it's _me._ "

"You just admitted that you don't even know exactly where your tribe lives," Pieri pointed out. "Pieri has a feeling that she will find your home before you do."

The garou scoffed, cheeks heating up with indignation and, _of course_ , embarrassment. When will he be spared such humiliation?

 _Evidently,_ he thought grimly, _never._

"I'll find 'em! I'll sniff 'em out is what I'll do. You're a human, so you can't find them that way."

"But! But!" She grimaced. "But, Pieri wants to _try_! Besides, if you could sniff them out, then why would you ever get lost in the first place? You're terrible, Flannel!"

"Suit yourself," he grumbled. "Don't come crying to me like a little pup if you can't find them."

She started the gradual ascent up the mountain, lithely springing from one rock to another. She had no ropes, no hooks, no bearings except for her own body and space. When she was high enough, Pieri turned around, and smirked down at the wolf below her.

"Pieri should be saying the same thing to you."

...

With each step up the mountain, Nishiki could not help but feel anxious and worried that some trap would spring up on him. Even if he had an innate sense for detecting such things, Orochi's words were powerful enough to make him doubt such an ability. When they reached the familiar plateau that lead to the foxes' den, Nishiki sighed a breath of much needed relief.

 _We're here,_ he thought. _The hamlet._

The youkos were situated as deeply in the mountains as he said they were. Miles and miles away from civilization was a group of the thought-to-be mythical foxes, whose community was small and intimate in every way. Their numbers were formidable enough, but what helped them survive was the inherent fear of human poachers and hunters, and that instilled thought of humans as the enemy is what drove them to kill.

Nishiki worried that bringing Orochi with him was the entirely wrong thing to do. Unlike his fellow youkos, he enjoyed being around humans, and grew used to their presence. He did not take his tribe into consideration, and feared seeing their reactions, their faces when they see that their leader has brought a _human_ back home with him.

 _What am I gonna tell them?_ He worried. _That s_ _he's a friend? No, that wouldn't really sell. I might be able to convince them that she's my wife, but she's obviously not..._

"Nishiki, I think we're here."

"Huh?"

"Look, over there. Those irresistibly cute ears! They must be a youko's!"

The ears that Orochi spotted were indeed a youko's, and Nishiki knew exactly whose ears those were, too. He knew that if they kept walking down the plateau, they would reach a windy path that would lead to his settlement. They would find the fox dens and all of the youkos and kyuubi no youkos huddled in one spot, staring with their bright eyes and wondrous forms.

He knew that if he let Orochi walk there alone, that the others would surely kill her on the spot. If Nishiki had never known Orochi or the others in Kamui's forces, then he would have killed them just as easily, as well. But he _did_ know them, and he could not let his loved ones hurt his newly found human friends.

He had to think of a good excuse. But there was no time to think, as Orochi was becoming aware of their situation, and noticed Nishiki's uncharacteristic apprehension right away.

With slight hesitation, she asked: "Should we go say 'hi', or...?"

"No. _You_ should stay put, Orochi. Because if you go alone, they'll attack you."

" _What?_ " She hissed out accusingly. "What do you mean?"

There was no avoiding it now. Nishiki took a deep sigh, and continued. "You see, the thing is...youkos are legendary because so few people know about them. And the few people that knew were either survivors, or they were really, _really_ lucky."

Orochi turned her gaze to meet his, and her eyes shone with more than a disbelief. They were like poison, willing to strike him down with the meanest stare she could. And her mouth moved in a similar manner, quick and mercurial.

"You...you _killed_ humans?"

"Yes, but only the ones that passed by through here!" Nishiki reasoned, an inexplicable look of guilt and worry written on his face. "Because, us youkos are always hunted for our fur. If we let humans pass through, they'll only trick us and try to kill us! It's happened before."

"That doesn't change the fact that you _killed_ humans! Gods, people pass by here all the time! You killed them to keep your hamlet a secret, right? If that was the case, why did you even join the army? Don't tell me that all this time, you were planning to-"

" _No!_ " Nishiki blurted out. "No, I would _never_ think of hurting you or the others like that. I would _never_! You guys, you guys are _different._ All the people that passed through here, though, they came with a purpose, there is nothing on these mountains except for us, and...-"

The next few seconds happened so very, very _quickly_. One second, Nishiki was trying to explain to Orochi all of the things he never revealed, trying to amend all the wrongs that he committed in her eyes. The next second, and one of his fellow foxes leaps out from their hiding spot, teeth bared for an attack. The attack, of course, was aimed for Orochi. She, in turn, took out her scrolls, as she refused to be helpless in this situation. And before anyone could stop her, she already summoned the spirit of a very, _very_ angry tiger.

Its golden form rose to life, jumping out of the paper and pouncing on the attacker with immense speed and power. The youko screamed in pain and fell flat out of the air. That sparked the anger in the rest of them, and all of the other foxes jumped out from their hiding spots, ready to extract revenge. They yelled over each other in a frenzy of hate and thoughtlessness.

_Leader, get out of the way!_

_Respected Nishiki, let us get rid of this eyesore for you!_

_Die, human!_

_Filthy human, we will destroy you!_

_How dare you trick our leader? We'll save you, Nishiki!_

Voices like warbled static screeched out equally incoherent words, and Nishiki could see the fear etched in Orochi's eyes. Her spirits could not protect her from everything, and she knew that this many foxes leaping at once would mean inevitable death. She clutched her hands around the scroll anyways, and summoned to life another tiger.

Before it could leap off the page, Nishiki grabbed Orochi's hand and forcefully threw her behind him, shielding her with his arms-spread, _human_ body.

Everything screeched to a halt as the tribesmen realized what was happening. In an instant, it was as if all anger and despise had melted away, forced to dissolve as the body and presence of their long-absent leader stood in the way and protected the one thing that youkos were meant to hate.

 _Humans._ He was protecting a _human._ And from the looks of it, she was just as surprised as they were. Those pretty, violet eyes were wide as saucers, and her shapely figure was nothing but a trembling mess as she cowered behind Nishiki.

He was the only thing keeping her alive, after all. Despite this, his resolve remained strong, and he did not back down in the slightest. Rather, he stared down all of his kin, unaffected by their suspicious glares or deep growls.

Finally, they spoke.

"Nishiki," said one of the kyuubi no youko, "What is the meaning of this?"

"We," Nishiki breathed out, "need to talk."

...

"We're here!" Pieri cheered, pumping her armored fists into the air. The pale sunlight gleaned off of the surface, and unsurprisingly, the beams of light hit Flannel straight in the face as a result. He recoiled in shock of the sudden blinding, but recovered just as quickly, for his excitement to see his family overruled his weakness.

"I can't believe it," he muttered. "You actually found them."

"Pieri cannot sniff them out like you," she explained, "but she can track an animal's trail, so Pieri followed the claw marks and footsteps up the mountain!"

The wolf looked, and he noticed the tracks that she used. They were wolfish footprints, scattered and embedded in the soil and rock. He smiled, strangely pleased by such a small thing. The last time he saw tracks like those were his own, in the muddy fields of battle, or on malleable castle stone.

_It's good to be back._

"Let's go, then. Stay near me so they know that you're not an enemy."

"Okay."

The two of them walked forward, and soon enough they found the windy, forested path that would lead to the wolves' den. As they walked, Flannel could instantly sense the other garous, hidden as they peeked at the two of them from behind the rocks and in the trees. He knew that they would not attack so mindlessly, even if their movements were so obviously hostile.

No, garous were the type that would wait, wait and watch to see if the cavalier with cotton-candy hair was an enemy or a friend. It was hard to tell, with her mixed movements. She had a smile that wrote herself off as childish, but she also walked in a way that mirrored her soldier-like discipline.

Not to mention the large lance that Pieri carried with her at all times. Even if her horse was left at the army stables, she was no less powerful on foot. Flannel knew this for a fact.

 _Hopefully it won't come down to that,_ he thought. _I've been gone for a while, but I'm still in charge._

They reached the end of the path, where they found the homes of the wolves. The outer camp was lined with makeshift dens made out of forest branches, but there were hollow spaces in nearby caves where the beasts could reside, as well. Everyone was outside, however, and they all looked extremely tense. Even the children started stiffening up in the presence of Pieri, the stranger.

As well as their appointed leader, who was standing so close to her in a way that they could not understand why.

The atmosphere was stifling, and not at all what Flannel imagined it to be. He had hoped for more laughter, more smiles, and camaraderie. Because garous were normally so stubborn, but they could relent when important things happened, like the long overdue return of their leader. And yet, there were no celebratory howls or joyous whoops. There was only a thick, awkward silence and caution hanging in the air.

Perhaps bringing Pieri along was a mistake, but if it was, there was no remedying it now.

A mánagarm stepped forward, its black and red personage like a bloody shadow, even in human form. Its gaze shifted between Flannel, Pieri, and the two of them together. After assessing them, the wolf finally spoke out. "...Well, well. If it isn't Flannel."

"That's me." He greeted. "S'been a while."

"It has," another wolf spoke, stepping out of the darkness. This one was transformed, and _very_ tall. Pieri thought that he might even be taller than Flannel. "We were wondering what had happened to you all this time."

"About that," Flannel cut in, "I can explain."

"There's no need to," a young female, in her human form still, piped up. "It's pretty obviously what happened."

He looked to Pieri, who only shrugged in response. She had never dealt with something like this before, so in the face of conflict, it was only natural that she had no idea what to do. There was the option of killing anyone that misunderstood her as the enemy, but she doubted that was what Flannel wanted for his pack.

Finding no help in her reddened stare, the garou turned his face to meet his pack, and spoke as strongly as he could.

"Listen, I-"

"You've found a mate!"

"Yeah, that's why...-wait, _what?_ "

The other wolves started gathering around them, their serious expressions faded into goofy smiles. Pieri could see Flannel's silliness in all of their faces, and felt relieved to know that the other wolves were just as daft as he was.

Even if they seriously misjudged their relationship.

"You have a mate! And you were too embarrassed to face us after all this time!" The mánagarm from before explained, slapping the leader on his back. "Even if she's a human, there's no shame in finally getting a partner!"

"Yeah, your months long absence was you tryin' to woo her, right?"

"We get it! We so get it, Flannel!"

Their raucous laughter and shouts mixed into one incomprehensible noise, and even Flannel found himself overwhelmed by their sheer joy. Pieri resisted stabbing the wolves that started playing with her hair, sniffing her, and exclaiming how pretty she was, or how lucky Flannel was to get such a lady by his side.

Part of her wanted to really knock some sense into them, to explain that she and Flannel were just friends and not the married couple that the other wolves thought they were. But she did not want to have to fight any of them for Flannel's sake, or rekindle the suspicion and anger that they previously had. Even if it was a lie, would it be so bad to go along with it, if it meant getting a good reception from Flannel's family?

 _Pieri doesn't want to have to see him fight against them,_ she thought, _She has no choice._

In a quick, abrupt movement, the knight reached out and gripped the garou's arm, pulling him closer to her. It ended up with his body pressed against hers, and his face being buried in her colorful hair.

Hair that smelled pleasantly of strawberries. He wondered if she could feel his face heating up from being so close to her. He hoped not.

"That's right!" she quickly yelled, silencing everyone with her voice. "We _are_ married. And we're happy, too, but if you would stop crowding around us, we would appreciate that...!"

As if she cast a spell, the rowdy wolves suddenly backed off, without so much as a hint of refusal. Their previous shouts and cheers were reduced to happy whispers and surprised gasps, but their feelings were still evident on their faces.

If they did not believe that the two of them were married before, they _definitely_ believed it now _._

Flannel, having a moment to Pieri by himself, hissed out quietly: "Why did you say that? Now they think we're mates!"

"Pieri said that because they're your family, and they'll probably want to attack us if they find out the truth. And Pieri doesn't want to see you fight with your family."

He looked down at her, and saw in her eyes a very genuine expression of concern. She seemed happy, though, like this situation was the ideal one that she was expecting to get into. Like this was all a part of her plan, somehow.

Even if it was, at the very least, she had saved him the trouble of explaining everything to his pack. He would have to tell them the truth _eventually,_ but for now, he would just go along with the lie she started, eternally grateful that he would not have to start a confrontation.

Flannel pulled Pieri in closer to him, and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"Well, then, _my love,_ let's do our best and give them one hell of a show."

"Couldn't have said it better!"


	9. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as content warnings, there are some images concerning blood, and the jealous thoughts return, as well! This is a direct continuation of the last chapter, versus the other chapters which happen some time apart from each other. And like the last chapter, it's REALLY long. I promise that the next parts will go back to their usual length!

**Illusion**

n. _a thing that is or is likely to be wrongly perceived or interpreted by the senses ; a deceptive appearance or impression._

* * *

There was silence, and for a very long time, no one said anything. The only audible sound was that of Orochi's ragged and broken breaths. Even the wind seemed unable to say anything at this point.

Nishiki was waiting for something, _anything_ that indicated it was fine to keep talking. After all, he said the obvious, and acknowledged the fact that there were complications that the youkos had to sort out with each other. But nothing could be done if all of the others were just going to stare at him for hours on end.

Finally, one of kyuubi no youko spoke, its voice heavy with age and wisdom. "Nishiki," they began, "What is there to talk about? A human is in our midst, and you must not forget the way of our tribe."

"How could I _forget?_ " he sneered. "How could I forget, when you're obviously so intent on carrying out the tradition, even if it means killing one of my _friends?_ "

As soon as he said that Orochi was his friend, there was an audible gasp that spread throughout the hamlet. From the small kits to the older beasts, the murmur of uncertainty and disbelief weaved through the air.

Orochi wanted to throw up. She would never have come if it meant facing such a deadly problem, but she never thought farther than teasing Nishiki. Such an intimate and important matter as family was something she was not welcome to hear, and if it were not for Nishiki's persistence, the other youkos would have her head on a plate already.

Her pretty, _pretty_ head. The way a certain youko from the crowd was staring at her was different, affectionate, almost. There was a weird sort of trust in his eyes, and the way that he smiled sadly showed sympathy, like he could not believe such a pretty diviner was trapped in this situation. There were children, as well, who looked at her with an equally kind expression. Maybe they would understand if she just reached out to them. They smiled at her, beckoning for her to come near them, as if they were saying: "Hey! We see you, and we feel bad for you! Poor you, dealing with Nishiki's baggage like that. Come here, and we can talk!"

And she felt very tempted to do that, to relent to those trusting eyes that seemed to look at her with some humanity. Yet a warm hand reached out and clenched her clammy arms, the sudden movement thus forcing Orochi back into reality. Looking up, she saw Nishiki's stern gaze, dark and worried, boring into her soul.

"Orochi, what are you doing?"

She blinked, confused by the inquiry. Looking around, she realized what he had meant. Without realizing it, the diviner was down on her knees, trying to crawl out from Nishiki's guard, probably in an attempt to go near the youkos that captivated her with their kind smiles.

On closer inspection, she could see their sharp fangs poking from under their lips, and the hint of something dark in the flecks of their eyes. She saw the way that their pointed claws fidgeted nervously with one another, like they were just waiting to _rip_ something into shreds.

Were those even the same foxes she was looking at from before? Where was their sympathy, their friendliness? Was she losing her wits?

"I...I don't know." she admitted, tearing her eyes away from any of the foxes, even the one that was her friend. "I don't know what came over me."

"...I see. Orochi, you should have known better. You're a Hoshidan through and through, right?"

The question was strange, but she answered it anyway. "Yes, born and raised in Hoshido."

"So, _you_ tell _me._ What does 'youko' translate to?"

Lavender eyes clouded in confusion as she searched for the answer. The words usually came so easily to her, but under the pressure of the situation, she feared that they failed to come out right.

Finally, something in her clicked, and she recited the meaning without hesitation. "It translates to 'bewitching fox'."

"Thank you," Nishiki said quietly. "Please, don't let them fool you. We're just what the name says. You almost fell for their tricks."

The illusion they put in front of her was so strong, she feared that the word 'trick' was not worthy of describing such powerful measures. But either way, she conceded defeat in their current situation. "I'm sorry, I lost myself for a moment there." the diviner laughed in spite of herself. "What do we do, Nishiki? We're outnumbered."

"Let me handle this."

She looked up again, and saw that the expression in his eyes had changed. There was something in there (sympathy? pity?) that reassured her that everything would be alright. Even if they were cornered by the entire hamlet, he made her feel like she would be fine.

 _Let's hope that feeling comes true,_ she thought, _there's no dying in today's horoscope._

...

Pieri was almost shocked at how easy the wolves believed their fake marriage. The skepticism and hostility they showed from before entirely vanished, and part of her wondered if she had actually been killed and this was some sort of purgatory. How could any creature be so gullible? These monstrous beings had the power to rip her to shreds, and yet she remained unharmed as the garou children gathered around her, in awe of her position as Flannel's partner.

"You guys are actually _married?_ " One girl asked, sniffing the ends of Pieri's hair. "Even though you smell so sweet, that I wanna vomit?"

"Even then!" the knight replied happily. Such strange and gross comments would have put off anyone else, but Pieri found their dark natures to be weirdly refreshing and familiar. Not to mention the fact that they smelled good to her, wearing not a scent, but a presence that reeked of bloodshed and murder.

She smelled like that, too, so when Pieri ended up around like-minded people, she could relax and feel at ease. When one of the children brought her a dead bird as a 'wedding gift', she happily accepted it.

"Pieri loooves killing birds! Especially when they fall out of the sky!"

"Me too!" The boy exclaimed, grin widening. "But mama and Flannel always say that we shouldn't kill for the sake of killing. They said that we should only kill what we need in order to survive."

"He told Pieri that, too." Pieri frowned. "It's hard to understand, but if he says it, it must be important."

"Maybe."

It was only expected that Pieri and garous would get along. Their shared sense of cruelty and love for killing brought them together. The children were born as nightmares, but it was Pieri who was _raised_ in monstrosity. Behind their bright smiles lied a deep desire for pain and blood, and almost nothing else mattered when they took that into consideration.

Still, the cavalier had not lost sight of her purpose. She had to play half the part of a married couple because of the lie that she managed to feed the whole pack. Even if her camaraderie was malcontent and misplaced, who had the right to judge her?

Flannel, thus, left his companion to her own devices, as he divulged his precious time with the other members of the pack. Garous and mánagarms alike caught up with Flannel, nuzzling and sniffing him affectionately. His best friends, cousins, and allies were all in the mix, obviously overjoyed with their leader's return. And their leader, in return, was glad to be back. He was happy to be around his kindred, his fellow wolves whose scents started fading in his mind over time. But now that he was with them again, he was drowning in their familiarity and comfort.

He nearly forgot that he was supposed to leave, just as quickly as he had arrived. Somehow, he would have to explain to his precious tribe that he would have to leave again, disappearing for who knows _how_ long. But that news could be broken in the morning, Flannel decided. For now, he shoved that significant detail to the farthest corner of his mind, and transformed into his true being, letting loose a guttural howl.

The others copied him, and within minutes the whole pack was howling into the sky, thunderous echo all but shaking the land they stood on.

Pieri was impressed, if not mildly anxious due to the children around her suddenly transforming into ten foot tall werewolves. They pounded against their chests with giant hands, and pointed their blackened muzzles skyward. It was an experience that, while Pieri was witness to, could never be truly understood or enjoyed as her species was completely set apart from the others.

When they returned to their humanoid forms, she felt more at ease.

Flannel stretched his human limbs, and slapped a few of the other guys on their backs. "It's good to be back!" He yelled, smiling in spite of himself. "Sorry I left for so long."

"It's not a problem, leader!" One of the garous yelled out. A mánagarm standing next to him called out: "We're just glad you're back!"

"And now that you have a mate, you don't have to leave again!"

"That's right, I...wait, _what?_ " Flannel's streak of joyous excitement screeched to a halt, as an elder mánagarm suggested his permanent stay.

_But, I actually have to leave tomorrow..._

"Well, when you suddenly left without an explanation, we had to function without you. But garous need a leader, an alpha, and now that you're back, we can do things properly around here!"

"I-I'm sure you guys were doing just _fine_ without me," Flannel said nervously. "I mean, look at this place! You cleaned up all the human bones from before! I can actually walk without tripping over any of them!"

"We just stored them in one of the caves," a younger garou explained. "We needed more room for the kits that are gonna be born soon."

"And you need to be there, to welcome them into the world, and into our pack."

"You came back just at the right time, Flannel! We missed you so much!"

"Now things can go back to normal!"

Between all of their excitement and hopefulness, Flannel's defiant voice had died out. And maybe it was rightly dead. Because he had lost himself for a while, pretending to be a soldier and a good friend for those in Kamui's army, when the reality of it was that he only needed them to find his way back home. Now that he had returned home, there was no need to lie and pretend that he cared about some war between humans who were, _naturally_ , his enemy.

 _I'm no soldier,_ he thought, _I'm just a garou, and my people need me._

His mind raced with different possibilities of how he would explain this all to Pieri. How could he get her to go back down the mountain herself, or keep his home a secret from the others? How could he persuade her to never tell anyone else where he was, and to just forget about him entirely? After all, she was just a retainer, and had no business other than to serve Lord Marx. Just as Flannel was a garou, and had no business other than to serve and lead his clan. The thought of leaving his rightful home should have made him nostalgic, should have filled him up with guilt for leaving his tribe for so long.

But instead, he found himself stinging with a different kind of guilt. He pined for the castle and the barracks, the cold stone and astral plane. It had only been a day since he was gone, but it was already starting to feel wrong.

His eyes trailed from the ground, to the human soldier that had tagged along with him. Everything about her reminded him of why he wanted to go back to the castle. Her visible eye reminded him of the blood they spill on the battlefield, but also of Kamui's insufferably naive stare. Her hair was like the sky in the morning, bright blue and pink. The blue also reminded him of Aqua and Belka, while the pink made him remember Sakura and Felicia. Pieri's armor was also familiar, as Cyrus, Benoit, and Elfie wore metal just like it. Not to mention her spear, which was the same one that Oboro was using just the other day.

But most reminiscent was Pieri's smile. Her smile could be cruel and amoral, but more often than not it was happy and sweet. It was her own smile, Pieri-like in every way, but there was something in the way that her lips moved which made him think about a certain youko.

If he abandoned the army, that would mean abandoning Nishiki, and possibly never seeing him again. And Flannel decided that more than anyone else, the person that he dreaded losing the most was his best friend.

So that put him in an impossible position, that nearly pulled his heart in either direction. It was one where he had to choose between the family he had always known, and the family he was just starting to love.

...

Nishiki was curled up by the biggest tree in the forest. He was in his youko form, and for good measure, as well. There was to be a meeting within the hamlet, and like other meetings they had before, it was to be held underneath the same tree where their first ancestors were supposedly born. Orochi, having since regained her strength from the near fight she had, kept up with Nishiki's pace, but did not say anything to him regarding their situation.

Rather, she felt like she was stuck in a terrible dream, one where she may have just jeopardized her friend's relationship with his entire family.

 _But that's no dream,_ she thought to herself, _it's real and it's happening right now._

The diviner tightened the strings on her coat, hoping to retain as much heat as possible. The cold was harsher up in the mountains, and she silently wished to be back on the castle grounds, where she could at least suffer in safety. There was no safe spot out here, not when the youkos followed her every scent and movement. Out here, she was exposed.

Yet Orochi would not be surprised if Nishiki never talked to her again after this. If their roles had been reversed, Orochi knew she would never forgive him for being so foolish and stubborn.

Orochi assumed that he had hated her now, and she would be content with that, if it meant that they could get out of this without a hitch. She thought of a multitude of apologies to recite to him, to make up to him in any way, but her thoughts were interrupted by _his_ voice.

"I'm sorry," Nishiki muttered. "They've never really dealt with humans like this before. But your kind is still so strange, even to me. Either way, I hope you're not hurt."

"How can you even consider me right now," she sneered, "since it's my fault any of this is happening? I should have listened to you in the first place, Nishiki. I should never have imposed myself like that."

"Yeah, you _totally_ messed up." The fox agreed, scoffing at her. "I told you it would be weird if you came with me. But, we're in this together now and there's no getting out. We should just do our best and come what may."

"...Right. But I'm still not even sure what's going _on_ right now."

"This is where we hold our meetings." He explained, a nostalgic tone in his voice. "This place is sacred, and every problem we've had was resolved here."

"Is it okay for _me_ to be here, then? Since it's so personal, and all. But I guess it doesn't matter since I'm here already..."

"Fufu. You'll be fine, Orochi. Remember that they'll have to go through _me_ if they want to touch you. Which they won't."

She sighed, and curled up as close to the other as she could. Mostly because she was cold, but really because she was _afraid._

She was afraid that she had no control over the situation. The future could be predicted, but its overall course was wild and unsuspecting. There was no telling how their little intervention would turn out, so Orochi could only sit and hope that things would end up in her favor.

She would not live to see another day otherwise.

...

"Hey, can I talk to you?"

Pieri looked up, and saw the inquisitive look on Flannel's face. His lips were curled into a frown, and his eyes were downcast. Those small details alone said it all. There was something terrible weighing on his mind, something concerning their situation and the lies they were telling.

She looked towards the children, and gave them an apologetic smile. "Pieri will be back soon, kids. But until then, please stay there." There were several whines, but ultimately the garou pups did not try to stop her as she left.

Pieri followed Flannel, and they walked along the edge of the path until he quickly pulled her off to the side. Flannel looked around, ears perking as he tried to sense if anyone else was close enough to hear them. There were a few garous on the opposite side of the road, but they were too immersed in their own conversation to notice their leader and his 'wife'.

Once the coast was clear, Flannel let go of Pieri's hand, letting out a deep sigh. "Good, we're safe here."

She adjusted her gauntlets, fixing the metal coverings until they snapped back into place. "What's wrong, Flannel?"

"They think I'm here to stay," he sighed out. "They _want_ me to stay."

"Uh oh."

"Yeah, 'uh-oh' is right. What do I do, now? What do I tell them?"

"Why are you asking Pieri?"

He was about to retort sarcastically, before he realized that her question made the most sense out of anything else that day. Why _was_ he asking her? No matter her opinion, he knew that it would all be up to him in the end. And whichever way he chose, she would still be the same cavalier as she was before.

Why _was_ he asking Pieri?

"Well," the garou started shyly, "it's because, because...! Because you kinda made up the whole 'we're married' lie, so I was hoping you would have something else that could convince these guys to let me leave."

"Pieri could try to come up with a killer lie, but why don't you just tell them the truth?"

He blinked as if he did not understand her question. "What?"

"Tell them the truth," she repeated simply. "You're their leader, they should listen to you. If not, just k-, um, _take care_ of them."

"First off, if I tell them the _truth,_ they might try to _hurt you._ Second, I'm their leader, not their _God._ I can't force anyone to do anything for my sake. And did you really suggest to _kill_ my family? That's not gonna work, Pieri!"

"Pieri will not go down without a fight," she muttered. "Pieri thinks that murder is the easiest solution here. But, if you didn't want such a complicated situation, why did you invite Pieri in the first place?"

"Because you wanted to go!"

"Yes, but you said 'no'! Pieri was willing to let go of it for your sake."

"S-Shut up! Everything is just weird right now. It's complicated..."

" _You're_ making this complicated. Just tell Pieri the truth, at least."

"T-The truth...?" The wolf swallowed, forcing his anxiety down his throat. After a moment or two, he continued. "The truth is, I wanted someone to be there for me. Because if you weren't here I might have just stayed here and that would have been the end of it. But because you're here, you remind me that I need-, um, that _the others_ need me and they would be sad if I was gone for too long, so...so _that's_ why I wanted you to come, okay? Gods, what's with you, anyways? Making me say stupid things like that..."

Pieri's smile stretched from ear to ear, and she giggled to spite the other. "Flannel, that's ridiculous! You're overreacting, and Pieri thinks you're making it too hard on yourself. Just tell them that you still have some business, and once it's over you'll come back for good."

"You think that will work?"

"Yes! And if you wanted to stay, that would be fine, too. Pieri will still get to kill things whether or not you are there, so it makes no difference, really."

"S-Saying it like that, makes me wonder why I even doubted myself..."

"Likewise! Now, please stop being indecisive and let's get back out there. They will notice if you and Pieri are gone for too long."

He nodded, and wordlessly followed her back onto the trail. In his head the decision was already made, but he dreaded the exact moment where he would have to tell the others. All he could do was fake a smile, and pretend that there was no where else he would rather be than Mount Garou.

...

The youkos were all transformed, and seeing dozens of giant foxes walk into the clearing was an experience that Orochi was sure to remember for the rest of her life. As terrifying as those creatures could be, they looked breathtakingly beautiful as they strolled through the pale sunlight, their scarlet eyes alive with anticipation.

But compared to Nishiki, Orochi noticed, they were all lacking in something. Maybe he was not kidding when he said that he was the 'most beautiful creature alive', even when compared to all the youkos. It especially showed in their true forms, where Nishiki's fur was undeniably superior to theirs. There was a natural softness about it that the other foxes just did not have.

_Is that why he's their leader? Because he's the prettiest one out of them all?_

Her questions remained unanswered, and she kept her gaze downward as all the others started getting closer and closer.

Even the smallest kit was twice as large as Orochi. The children stared at her with amused eyes, most likely satisfied with the trickery they pulled on her earlier in the day. The 'bewitching' part of 'bewitching fox' was no mere hoax, and if the diviner got to live the next day, she would tell everyone what horrible _tricksters_ the youkos were, and that they could be cruel enough to rule the world, were they not so narcissistic.

All of those musings were but thoughts, and the woman was startled by Nishiki's voice, which suddenly pierced the air.

"I haven't visited in a long time. I came back here with the intention to check up on all of you, but I never expected things to go like this."

"Neither did we, Nishiki." A female kyuubi no youko spoke out, her tone mixed with sympathy and disappointment. "We are still confused as to how you started referring to humans as your... _friends,_ however."

"Humans are the enemy," a younger kit yelled out, "you taught us that yourself!"

"Humans that try to _hunt us_ are the enemy," Nishiki insisted. "Not all of them. If it were all of them, then we might as well leave the mountains and go on a campaign slaughter! Without humans, we would have nothing to _play with_."

Orochi flinched at his word choice, but ultimately could not fight against it. This was his true nature, after all. He was a being that was naturally stronger and superior to humans, such that humans were as fragile as toys to him. The diviner thought that if she were born a youko instead, she would have played with humans all she liked.

But to hear him say it out loud, admitting his monstrosity in a way, was a bit disconcerting. She sighed, and buried her stare into her knuckles, which were outstretched and white. She wanted to scream, but her teeth prevented her lips from moving.

"True," another youko agreed. "Humans _are_ fun to play with. But that's as far as their purpose goes, because they are _toys_ and nothing more. Why are you so protective of your belongings, Nishiki? Such that you are willing to turn against your tribe for _her?_ "

"It's not just for _her_ ," he countered. "It's for _all_ of them, those humans that did nothing to us but we still have it out for them. If you took away our ears and our forms, wouldn't we be just like humans? What gives us the right to try and assert ourselves over them? Think about it!"

A few murmurs spread throughout the small crowd. Orochi could not discern any specific comments, but quietly wished that everyone was starting to see his point.

"And also, some of my closer friends have also been human. They're fragile and silly, and their customs still don't make a lot of sense to me, but I want to play with them and I can't do that if they're all dead, right? So, let's be rational here. Are we going to freak out over a single human, or are we going to throw me an _awesome_ 'welcome back' party?"

"Nishiki," Orochi finally croaked out, "Nishiki, I...!"

"You're right," an elder spoke, voice rippling in the air like water. "We are above such petty arguments. I feel silly about all of it now. There has to be a balance in nature, and as such, your friend here can be spared the usual treatment."

"Yes," another fox agreed. "Yes, there are more important things to worry about now."

"Like throwing you that welcoming party!" A small kit yelped, jumping into the air. "We had one all set up already, we just wanted to kill that human first!"

"But since she's your _friend_ ," another child giggled, "then we can celebrate!"

Orochi watched in mixed horror and fascination, as the once bloodthirsty youkos had switched their attitudes dramatically, acting like they never tried to kill her in the first place. But what was more intriguing than that was Nishiki, and while he saved her from a more unsavory fate, Orochi knew that part of him still believed in treating humans as play things, seeing as he was just as violent and monstrous as the next youko.

 _Why would the Gods make such terrible decisions,_ she wondered, _and pit their species against ours? It's scary, and unfair._

_But this is better than me being torn to pieces, I guess._

She was lost in the noise, lost in the loud din of celebration. The foxes were all too eager to let loose, so they easily bounded out of the forest, and ran far away from the sacred tree. They were like blurs of gold and white, fast-moving streaks of the sun. Their fires, floating in an array of bright blue, bobbed after them in erratic motions.

When they were all gone, it was only Nishiki and Orochi left at the clearing, but that did little to settle her nerves.

"Looks like I did okay," Nishiki mused, chuckling in spite of everything. "Shouldn't you be happy? They're fine with you being here now! They also might be more open to humans, like I am."

"That's great and all, and I'm _really_ thankful, but..." she turned to face the fox directly, and was terribly surprised to find that in the presence of his larger body and glowing red eyes, she felt fearful and uneasy. When she looked at him in that form, the only thing that she could stare at was the sharp edge of his teeth, and the fearsome fire glowing at his side.

She cursed herself mentally, for being so afraid. Was she a royal retainer, or some helpless floozy with a scroll? Orochi bit her lip again, groaning at her own incompetence.

Luckily, Nishiki did not seem to catch onto her hesitation. Or if he did, he certainly did a good job of hiding it. He asked in a calm tone: "But what?"

"But, the things you and the others said, about humans being your 'toys'...do you _really_ believe that?"

He said nothing, and his face was as blank as a slate. She worried that she somehow angered him, but that feeling disappeared as the youko suddenly sprung forward, nuzzling his face into her shoulder, smothering her as softly as he could.

Nishiki purred gently, then answered. "I used to think that, Orochi. A while ago, if you or any of the others had wandered too far into these mountains, I would have had no second thoughts about killing you.

But I've learned so much about humans since then! It'll take my tribe a while to get used to the idea, too, but I know they'll come through. And they seem happy, for now, so we shouldn't be so worried. And I promise, none of them will hurt you while we're here."

"...You mean that?" She muttered, reaching out to pet him despite her suspicions. "You truly mean that?"

"I swear on the Gods!" Nishiki exclaimed, flicking his tail around. "I know I'm perfect and beautiful, but I'm not _evil._ So, let's get back to the hamlet, now. I'll show you what a _real_ party is like!"

Part of her was still hesitant, doubting Nishiki's goodwill and thinking he was lying somehow. But the other part, the _bigger_ part of Orochi knew that Nishiki was honest and caring, traits that were seemingly few and far between when it came to his kind. She knew that he would not lie to her for the sake of lying, nor for the sake of calming her nerves.

And yet, she had seen his ruthless form in battle and in life. His beautiful form, glistening fur, and flashing fires were all lures to trick humans. It was all because youkos were creatures born to fight, born to kill. It was evident in the way that his body was always leaned in, as if ready to pounce on her at any moment. It was evident in his fangs and in his eyes, both gleaming with something that went farther than mischief.

The diviner knew their definitions of the word 'play' both varied greatly, but she still hung onto the hope that Nishiki was beyond his more bestial side. She still wanted to believe that in another life, he would still share his kindness with her despite everything.

_Even if he did admit that he probably would have killed me if we met under different circumstances. But I can dream, can't I?_

"That sounds great," she smiled. "I'll follow you as best as I can."

"Nice! And also, I was thinking that I could give you the express route back to the hamlet!" He lowered himself to the ground, seemingly content. "Hop on!"

"Seriously?" Orochi gawked. "You won't mind or anything, right? What if I pull too tightly on your fur, or something?"

"It'll be fine," Nishiki reassured. "My fur won't come out that easy. Now, let's hurry up before we miss everything!"

She hesitated, but ultimately forgot her fears as she climbed onto his back, and noticed how limber his body was. She expected to feel nothing but fluff, and was pleasantly surprised to find that underneath the soft fur was a myriad of pure muscle, strong and unyielding even when trapped underneath her weight.

The second that she was situated on his back, however, Nishiki wasted no time and sprinted out of the clearing and into the woods. Riding on his back was like nothing that Orochi had ever felt. She had been the backs of horses, pegasi, and wyverns alike. But those creatures were trained to deal with humans, such that they moved with ease and obedience under the rider's touch. Here, _Orochi_ was the one that had to obey, and she could do nothing but fiercely cling onto the other, as his wild movements threatened to throw her off otherwise.

No, Nishiki was like a lightning bolt, running in multiple directions only to screech to a halt and start again. The forest was a green blur before her eyes, and she felt breathless. When the youko laughed into the air, and sprung up from this way and that, Orochi also felt weightless, like they were running on clouds instead of dirt. Her hold tightened, and she buried her face into the back of his neck.

Here, she drowned in his scent, which was like sweet perfume and sunshine. It was warm, and safer than she would imagine it to be. And as they disappeared into the greenery, Orochi realized that slowly but surely, she was growing more fond of the youko beneath her, and secretly wondered if he felt the same.

...

Night had fallen, but for the garou, that meant that the day had just begun. The darkness was their domain, and the vicious blood in their veins was the most potent underneath the moonlight.

If only Pieri had been the same way. She felt incredibly tired, and quietly wished that she had not stayed up so late the past few days. Those hours of staying up past her usual time, forcing herself awake when she should have slept, finally caught up with her. That feeling, coupled with the garous' soft fur, enticed her to sleep in the den with the children, who were still not allowed to go out at night.

"You'll be fine if I go with the others, then?" Flannel asked. He was by her side as she curled up with a few of the pups in one of the small caves. She was lost in a sea of white fur, with only the shock of her blue and pink hair marking her presence.

"Pieri is sleepy, but so are the children. She will be fine." She opened her eyes, staring up at Flannel with a serious look in her scarlet eye. "You will not take Pieri hunting, anyways."

"You're right," Flannel said, "I won't. But, I _am_ going to talk with the others about my decision, so it's probably for the best that you stay here."

"Good luck! Make sure to spill _looots_ of blood for Pieri!"

He sighed. "It won't come down to that, but thank you. I'll see you in the morning." And with that, Flannel rose from his spot, and climbed down from the pups' den. Pieri could not have known that just a few caves away, there was an entire hoard of human bones and remains, many of which were the remnants of late night meals. But Flannel knew that she would understand, and even be impressed, were she to happen upon them.

 _I don't want it to come down to that,_ he thought. _I should just focus on what I'm gonna say._

A majority of his pack had followed him into the deeper parts of the mountains, where they hunted deer and bears of the like. Each life was taken with consideration, however, as unlike humans, animal lives were more sacred.

But Flannel still loved the sight of blood. The splash of crimson that greeted him with each swipe of the claws was like a gift, and he could not stop his smile from spreading when he watched the dark liquid spatter onto the ground.

It was so _beautiful._

"Flannel," a mánagarm called out to him. He looked up from his bloody mess, blinking himself back to reality. The mánagarm continued. "The others and I have thought about bringing extra food back to the camp for your mate."

"She's human," he reminded them. "It wouldn't be a good idea, you see. She can't just eat the meat off the bone."

"She can't?" they echoed his statement. "Then what is she going to eat?"

"That's what I was meaning to talk to you about. Gather the others for me, will you?"

In moments' time, most of the wolves had surrounded their leader, surprised by the sudden interruption in their hunting. Meetings like this were not rare, but to have them happen so abruptly made them worried. Their collected gaze was on Flannel as they waited anxiously for an explanation.

He finally spoke up. "Pieri and I, we...we still have business outside of the mountains."

"What kind of business?"

"That is, just some human things we still have to take care of. I'm not sure when we'll be back, but we won't be gone for too long."

"So, you're just going to leave us again? After you've been gone for _months?_ "

"Yes." He said simply. "And I'm sorry, but as your leader there's nothing you can really do to stop me." _At least, nothing that you won't regret later._

Silence. The wolves have never been as quiet as they were right now. Flannel's cousin, the mánagarm from before, finally spoke out.

"Then, good luck with your matters. We'll do our best while you're gone again."

"But don't take so long like you did before!"

"Yeah, or else we'll get really mad!"

Flannel smiled, thankful that his words reached the others with ease. His business, he realized, was his second home at Kamui's army, where he was still needed and wanted. Once the war was over, he would return like before, and forget all the troubles he had caused.

Even if it meant leaving his friends behind, Flannel knew that the world they shared was still so divided, and in the end his place would _never_ be with the humans. But that would not stop him from enjoying the time he did have with them.

"Thanks," he said humbly. "Now, what're you lazies starin' at me for? Is this a hunt or a vigil? Let's get moving!"

And Flannel left behind his worries in the chorus of cheers and howls, focusing on nothing but the hunt, and the beautiful crimson that would happen as a result.

...

Morning had come. Orochi watched the sun peak from behind the hills, and was in awe of the dawn's beauty. The past night had been full of merriment, and the youkos romped about like children in dance and celebration. They were elated to know that their leader had returned, even if it was just for a little while. Throughout the entire duration, Orochi had been mostly silent, only smiling when a youko or another tried to gauge her reaction. She had not felt this awkward since Lady Mikoto had tripped during the ceremonial dance to her _own_ wedding.

The thought of the late Hoshidan queen made Orochi's shoulders slump in sadness. Her eyes were cast skyward. _Are you up there, Lady Mikoto? Are you watching me now?_

_Would you proud of me for being here? No, if it was up to you, you'd probably scorn me for being so silly and invasive. I never learn, do I...?_

Lost in her own mind, Orochi did not notice Nishiki come up next to her, and in his human form, at that. The two of them had their legs swung over a cliff side, leaning their bodies back as the early sun had started to rise. The clouds in the sky were dark and heavy, and no doubt would rain in an hour or two.

"Orochi," he said quietly, so as not to startle her. "We should be leaving soon."

"Yeah," she muttered. "So we're just sneaking out, again?"

"No, I talked to the others. They sort of understand what's going on, so we can leave whenever we want. But I don't want to stay here for too long, anyways. Kamui and the others are probably wondering where we are."

"Yes, it's best that we leave, then." Despite saying that, she made no signal of moving. "Nishiki, I'm sorry about everything. It still bothers me, how all of this could have been avoided if I hadn't come along in the first place."

"Yeah, well, you're a pretty stubborn person, Orochi. I couldn't shake you no matter how hard I tried!" He laughed shortly, then stood up and stretched. "Let's worry about that later. If we're quick enough, we'll be back at the fort by afternoon."

"Wait, we're going back down in your other form?"

"Yes, is that a problem?"

She looked up at him, and saw his smile and impossibly kind eyes. Even if she caused him and his family so much trouble, he acted as if nothing had happened. Orochi could only hope that things were as well as Nishiki said they were, and that his kin had understood what it meant for him to be with the humans.

But no one killed them in their sleep, so that was a good sign.

The diviner stood up, and climbed onto Nishiki's back once he transformed. She clutched a fistful of his fur between each of her hands, and lay down as flat on top of him as she could. His body moved instantly, and she closed her eyes as the two of them descended down the cliff side, the youko not even deterred by the rocks or the sheer height. When she opened her eyes again, she could see the sun rising, its pale light starting to disappear in the dark clouds. Her hands instinctively tightened their hold.

"Don't be afraid!" Nishiki said, laughing at his own expense. "I'm not gonna drop you, or anything."

"I know," she murmured, voice muffled into his fur. "I know."

...

It was late into the afternoon when Pieri and Flannel finally returned to the castle. They stood at its bridge, the one that would lead into the courtyard just beyond the gates. The two of them had left earlier in the day, but the long trek from Mount Garou had taken hours to pass, even in Flannel's true form. But Pieri had enjoyed it nonetheless, especially when she got to sit upon his shoulders and ride his back like some ferocious steed. But once the entrance to the astral plane was in sight, the wolf had transformed back into his human form, and stretched out his limbs.

"Finally made it back."

"Yes! Pieri had a fun time, too!"

"Well, I'm glad. Guess I picked the right person to go with me. Now, what are we gonna tell the others?"

"We should tell them that we were out on a killing spree!"

"I don't think that's the best idea," Flannel said. "But I don't have anything better."

They heard footsteps approach them, and prepared for the worst. Was it Marx, who was worried since his retainer had been gone for so long? Or Kamui, who was concerned for the garou even if they were still on bad terms with him? Even worse, was it Zero or Camilla, who would heckle them cruelly with such cunning smiles?

Flannel visibly sighed when he caught a familiar scent that let him know it was neither of those people. He turned around, and smiled at Nishiki who was running towards him. Out of pure excitement, the two of them jumped for an embrace, laughing once they pulled away.

"So you're just getting back, too, huh?"

"Yeah! It was a wild time, but I'm glad I reconnected with the folks back at the hamlet. What about you, Flannel? Everything turn out alright?"

He looked to Pieri, who only gave him two thumbs-up in response. Returning to meet Nishiki's gaze, he nodded.

"A little bumpy, but nothing I couldn't handle. The worst part of it is probably explaining to the humans why I was gone for so long."

" _That,_ " Orochi cut in, voice resounding triumphantly. " _That_ is where I come in. I told Kamui that I was leaving on a divine journey for a day or so, and that I needed someone to accompany me. I'll just say that the three of you were there the whole time!"

Pieri smiled. "Ooh, we're lying! Pieri loves it!"

"It'll work out, then." Nishiki grinned. "No one has to know what really happened."

Flannel nodded, and looked between Pieri and the gates. Her smile was bright and her eyes were knowing. In the secretive sense that no one else would _really_ know what happened except for the two of them, Flannel was just glad that it was Pieri who he shared that feeling with.

But Flannel had missed the company of someone else, and was all too happy to be back at Nishiki's side. The cavalier went ahead of him, so he stayed back in hopes that he and Nishiki could catch up, and talk about their eventful days together.

Instead, he watched with painstaking envy as the youko and the diviner were talking amid themselves, in whispered hushes and giddy laughter. He noticed that Orochi's pin was still in Nishiki's hair, and that she was caressing the object with obvious affection. Flannel saw her smile at the fox, and in that smile he knew everything that he needed to know about her.

She was falling for him. Her body said it all, in the way she was leaning in as close to him as possible, and how her eyes were bright and expectant, looking at Nishiki the same way that people look at the sun.

She looked at him like he was her light.

And that was the defining moment in Flannel's life, when he knew that he cared for someone so much that he could not _stand_ the jealousy arising in him, the pure despise he felt for such a relationship that was starting to grow between the Hoshidans.

A relationship that did _not_ involve him.

It seemed like they would coo at each other for hours, but Orochi eventually broke contact first, and waved the youko goodbye as she headed into the castle, presumably to feed the lies that would serve as their cover up to Kamui or whoever mattered. Her eyes were like bright amethyst, and when she smiled in Flannel's direction, he was unsurprised to find himself suddenly sickened by her face, disgusted by her pretty smile.

"Flannel, are you alright?"

He broke out of his green, envious stupor long enough to look at Nishiki in the eyes. Judging from the fox's expression, he had no idea what Orochi was feeling towards him, and that in itself was of small comfort to Flannel. He scourged himself, forced his terrible, possessive thoughts in to the back of his throat as he feigned happiness.

"Yeah," he said, "I'm _fine_."


	10. J

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ends the really long chapters! This chapter is much shorter, although it is still wordier than I wanted it to be. Kudos to anyone that can guess what chapter 'K' stands for!

**Judgement**

n. _the ability to make considered decisions or come to sensible conclusions ; an opinion or conclusion._

* * *

Flannel, while horrible with directions, was a great judge of character. He knew this, and he loved surprising people with his accurate assessments. It was an innate talent, given that just by looking at someone, he could tell what kind of person they were.

Take Nishiki, for example. He was just as kind, caring, and energetic as he seemed, but Flannel knew more about his cunning side, and was aware of the ferocity and bloodlust that he kept hidden, _just_ underneath the surface of his skin. Despite this, Flannel knew that Nishiki was a good guy all around, and more importantly, he was his best friend.

The same could be said of Kamui. Flannel had not forgiven them in the slightest, but he could not deny that they were still a good person. He sensed Kamui's unmatched kindness and honesty when they first met. As naive, forceful, and oblivious as Kamui was, there was no denying that their heart was in the right place, no matter how much Flannel wanted to go against it.

His analysis of others included Orochi, as well. She was his least favorite person at the moment, barely trailing behind Kamui for the number one spot. She was dishonest, petty, and mischievous, never going above tricking others for her own amusement. Even if she was a good listener or surprisingly empathetic, those kind qualities did not measure up to the more distasteful ones in Flannel's eyes. Yet somehow, Nishiki was getting closer and closer to her. How could such a shrewd, fatalistic human get so close to him in the first place? What spell did she cast on him that made him so amiable towards her, out of everyone else in the army?

Yet, as much as Orochi is known to belittle others, he knew that she would not stoop so low as to manipulate Nishiki with her magic. She would occasionally cast harmless little spells on Tsukuyomi or Asama, but her intentions never worsened beyond having a little fun. He wished it were not so, because if she were capable of hexing Nishiki in order to get closer to him, then Flannel would have had the perfect excuse to hate her.

But, sadly, she was above that. Orochi had used her natural thoughtfulness and enthusiasm to worm her way in, which is exactly what Flannel had feared. Because of that, his hate for her was all but unfair and unjustified, seeing as she had done nothing to wrong him personally.

The only fault that Orochi had was the innocuous way in which she fell further and further in love with Nishiki. And Flannel thought it was sickeningly unfair, especially since he had his eyes on Nishiki _first_.

...

"Flannel," Kamui said quietly, "we need to talk."

"No, we actually _don't_."

The noble sighed. "Please, I know you're still mad at me, but you can't just ignore me."

"I _can_ , 'specially if you're just gonna feed me more sob stories about how sorry you are."

"I'm not," Kamui said. "I was just going to tell you that I'm specifically assigning you to prison duty today."

"Prison duty?" The wolf perked up, excited by the prospect. The jail was full of dust and spiders and other things that he considered to be treasures. He loved it in there, but was never assigned to work the guard shift due to his habit of scaring the prisoners and beating them within an inch of their lives. It was Kamui themselves who had banned him from going there in the first place.

So, what had made them change their mind? Surely it could not have been Flannel's good behavior as of late. The garou was suspicious of their sudden change of heart, and his excitement faltered as a result.

"Why _me?_ " Flannel imposed. "Why now?"

"Because there's a job in there that I think only _you_ can do," Kamui answered. "I thought it over, and I realized that out of everyone else in the army, no one could do the job better than you."

"Do what? All I have to do is guard the prisoners!"

"Today is different." The noble said. They started walking in the direction of the jail. Flannel had no choice but to follow afterward, purposely making sure that there was enough distance between him and Kamui to show that he was still offended by them.

They were silent for a few moments, before they came across the prison, its grey coloration making it look lonely and imposing.

Kamui resumed where they had left off. "Today, we have a certain group of prisoners. Usually Marx or Ryouma take care of them, but they were at odds at how to deal with these guys in particular. These prisoners are either going to be stuck in jail for a while, or they're going to be executed. It's a decision to see whether they live and die, and today that decision will fall to _you._ "

...

Flannel was unsure what to make of all of it. On one hand, he loved prison duty more than anything, and even if it meant dealing with the worst humans in the world, he would look forward to collecting all the dust and bugs the place had to offer. On the other hand, he did not like the idea of having those humans' lives on his shoulders, even if he usually relished in their untimely deaths.

It was not because he suddenly thought that killing humans was wrong, (especially the traitorous kind), but he did not want his image in camp to be destroyed by whatever cruel judgement he dealt out. He did not want people like Elise or Sakura to think worse of him for his decisions. Flannel did not want everyone else to share the opinion that Kamui had of him, to think that he was some sort of monster with no control.

But most importantly, he did not want Nishiki to think that he had no remorse for humans, even if that was partly the truth.

As a result, he was not as compliant to the order as he should have been.

"You just want to pin the blame on me," Flannel insisted. "You thought it would be _easy,_ to deflect the weight of those humans' lives on a garou's shoulder."

"Not at all!" Kamui denied. "No, that's not why I want you do it."

"Then why? What other reason could you have for asking _me_ to do it, out of everyone? Harold and Suzukaze are pretty loyal, why not them? Or Zero or Joker, who don't give a damn about their reputation? Why _me?_ " he echoed his earlier inquiry, as he was still not any more enlightened about Kamui's choice than before.

The dragon noticed this, and shook their head in disapproval. "Any of them would have been fine, I admit, but I wanted you to do it for a reason. That reason is your judge of _character._ Harold and Suzukaze are impartial enough, and Joker and Zero would have done the job without a second thought, but _you_ just have this amazing ability to tell people apart from one another, without even _knowing_ them. You can easily enough decide the fates of these prisoners, simply because your intuition is better than theirs."

"And you trust that?" Flannel hissed. "You trust my _intuition?_ "

"I do," Kamui said. "I do, and I think you believe in it more than you care to admit."

"What does it even matter to _you?_ You're the one that called me a monster."

"Not in those words, but if you're talking about the incident between us that happened some time ago, please know I've reconsidered my actions since then. And besides," they smirked, "I don't think a _monster_ would have been would have been fighting with Nishiki to protect Cyrkensia, a _human_ city, until the very end. When we first met, I thought that the city had meant so much to you, or that you must have had friends you were protecting since you were injured and in the heat of battle." Kamui's smirk softened, and their eyes were full of reminisce on the far gone memory.

"...But you _didn't_ know anyone in that city, you didn't even know _Nishiki,_ at that point. I realized that you're the type of person who doesn't just run into things blindly, or trust things because you can. You consider them, you judge them. And your judgement is _good,_ and unbelievably accurate. That's why, above everyone else, I think you're the right person for the job. And no one will think badly of you for doing it, not when you'll make the right decision in the end."

And, just like that, Flannel's bitterness was cut through cleanly. He was rendered wordless, stubbornly looking for a rebuttal in his head but not finding any. He was in utter denial, but could not voice any of his concerns. He did not expect such a lengthy explanation in favor of his so called talent, especially not from the one person he distrusted the most.

Thankfully, Kamui did not press the matter further, and kindly said nothing as they walked away, leaving Flannel alone in front of the prison by himself.

He took a good look at that building, and thought of the scum he would meet in there. Are such humans worthy of redemption, when the reason for their imprisonment was due to their irredeemable crimes? Would his opinion even matter, or would his actions be cast off as results of instinctive hate towards humans? The wolf sighed, and supposed he could only find his answer if he went inside.

 _Well,_ he thought, _time to see if you're right about everything you've said, Kamui._

_..._

Flannel was not alone in the prison. The prisoners were there, but he noticed that Pieri and Nishiki were also there, idly chatting off to the side until he arrived. When they noticed the garou, the two of them walked over to him, obviously pleased by his presence. there.

"Hey, Flannel!"

"Nishiki, Pieri." He nodded to the both of them. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Kamui assigned Pieri to prison duty." the cavalier said. "They said that we're gonna help you sort out which prisoners _die_ and which ones get saved!"

"Plus, prison duty's actually really boring if you do it alone. So I figured you might want some company!" Nishiki chirped.

The garou was silent for a moment, pondering all of the reasons why Kamui would want those two in specific to be there. As far as he was concerned, if it were left up to Pieri to make the decision, she would have just killed all of the prisoners herself, regardless if they deserved it or not. As for Nishiki, while the fox was the more benevolent of the two beaststone users, he was no better at rationalizing humans and their strange motives than Flannel was. The only thing that set the wolf apart from their ferocity was the fact that he had a sixth sense for assessing someone's character.

 _Maybe that's why they're here,_ he thought. _Maybe I'm supposed to show them how it's done._

His smile returned to his face, and with new found excitement, lead his two charges into the battle of judgement.

"What are you waiting for? Let's get this show on the road!"

...

The process went as Flannel had expected. Both the prisoners' names and grievances were listed on a paper, as well as a report of their criminal activity. Together with an interrogation sequence, Flannel was supposed to come up with a punishment suiting each captive. As he thumbed through the papers, he was not surprised to find that most of the captives had done a wide variety of wrongs, not just those that pertained to Kamui's army.

The first prisoner they dealt with was a Hoshidan spear fighter, a man who was responsible for the mass murder of several small villages, as well as the attempted assassination of Kamui themselves. Obviously, he failed in the second regard, seeing as Flannel had spoken to Kamui only moments ago. And while Flannel should have been disgusted by such acts of horror, he found himself disappointed with the prisoner instead, unimpressed with their inevitable capture and amateur methods.

_Humans are pretty fragile, huh? What a waste._

The spear fighter was brought before him, and right away Flannel could sense that he was anxious. Perhaps he would have been more comfortable with a _human_ interrogator. The fact that the garou's mere presence (together with a youko, an a woman renowned for her inhumane violence) alone inspired fear made him all the more happier, and he did his best to stop the smile that wanted to appear on his face.

"So," he began, "looks like _you've_ got some damage, human. Not to mention the mess you caused. It was pretty stupid of you, though. I mean, you let yourself get cornered, accordin' to this report. Were you even _trying?_ "

The man's eyes widened in horror. His heart beat escalated quickly, and the sound was picked up like a frantic drum beat in Flannel's sensitive ears. They twitched, and right away Flannel could tell that there was something wrong. Things were not as simple as the report said, and there was some lurking factor that he was missing.

"That's..." the prisoner croaked out, voice shaking with fear and dread. "That's... _terrible_ of you to say. You make it sound like the bad part isn't how I killed all those people, but it was how I got caught."

"That's exactly what I'm sayin'. You got caught, like you _wanted_ us to get you. It's disappointin', how easily you gave up. It makes me think that you never wanted to kill those people in the first place."

Pieri tilted her head. "What do you mean? He obviously wanted to kill them all! Otherwise he would have never done it! Pieri can tell that he's killed a lot of people, too!" She leaned in and pressed her hands against the interrogation table. Her scarlet eye was staring him down, and the man reclined in his seat as a result, trying to distance himself as much as he could. "He smells like blood. Sweet, sweet, blood. He's killed a ton of people before, just like Pieri! We could even be friends if he wasn't such a _baby._ "

"That's probably true," Flannel commented, crossing his arms. "But for some reason, humans tend to do things they don't want to. And it's written all over _your face._ Let me guess, some _other_ human used you, right? Threatened to kill your family or something if you didn't do what they said."

From the man's expression, the wolf guessed that his assumptions were correct. The way the prisoner's lips quivered, his eyes cast down with obvious guilt and discontent, said it all. Coupled with his nervous hand movements and his deafening heartbeat, Flannel knew he was right.

He just needed the guy to admit it himself.

"I...I..."

"Listen," Flannel suddenly slammed his hand on the desk, demanding attention. "Tell us who's the real mastermind here. Don't let them get away with what they did. Tell us, while you've still got a chance."

"But, the things I did, and all those innocent people I've killed, I don't think I..."

"The only other choice is _death_. If you're too much of a coward to even fend for yourself, then maybe you _deserve_ to die. You'll have no regrets about it, right? It's not like you have family or friends waiting for you. I mean, if you _did,_ you'd obviously do _everything you could_ to get back to them. But if you really don't wanna even try, then I'll just have someone come and bring you to the guillotine and we can stop wastin' each other's time."

" _No!"_ the spear fighter yelled, sobbing into his hands. "Oh, Gods, no. I-I have a family, and plenty of friends. I'll tell you everything, it's all like you said. But please, please, _please_ don't kill me. Please."

Nishiki and Pieri were utterly shocked, not expecting that they could get a confession so soon into the interrogation. The way the soldier was grovelling, Flannel could had had him dance out of the palm of his hand if he really wanted.

But he did not do that. Instead, Flannel smiled, and slapped the spear fighter on the back. "That's what I like t' hear! Now, let's start hearing some names. Revenge is useless if you don't have anyone to use it on, right?"

"R-Right..."

In that moment, Nishiki realized that Flannel, for all his talk of monstrosity, was surprisingly more humane than he even realized. His sense of judgement was as impeccable as he said it was, and his morality was not nearly as misguided as his sense of direction was.

He was much better than the youko, who imagined that if it was _him_ deciding their fate instead of Flannel, then he would not have been able to reach the spear fighter's conscience, and would have ultimately sent him away to die. And Pieri was out of the question entirely, as she failed to see any other outcome than death for the prisoners. But the two of them, for all their clueless natures, were starting to realize something that came out of Flannel's way of doing things.

They realized that Flannel was heroically compassionate in a way, and that if he applied that quality in battle, he might be able to save as many people as he killed.

...

The rest of the day continued on like that. In total, there were about twelve or so prisoners with unsure destinies, but when placed in front of Flannel, his judgement cleared up any ambiguity. There were a few prisoners that Nishiki opted to spare, but Flannel was insistent that they die.

"But that one guy, the outlaw, had such a bad past! His family died and he had to steal to keep himself alive. Some bad guys tried to kill him, so he had to kill them back! And when he trained that wyvern and started taking care of it...!"

"Nishiki, do you _hear_ yourself?" Flannel admonished lightly, giving a soft knock to the other's head. "That guy's story was a load of a garbage, and not the good kind. Also, his movements were all wrong, and he was _way_ too calm. I'm sure he can think his life choices over, _in Hell._ "

"Keehee. Pieri agrees, although she wishes you killed everyone and spared no one. They all smell of blood so they're all killers! Might as well kill them back, y'know?"

Flannel sighed. "That's not how it works, Pieri. 'Sides, Kamui would probably hate it if I just killed everyone. Not to mention that if they wanted to just slaughter them all, they would have put _you_ in charge."

She pouted. "Whatever. Pieri thinks you're no fun."

"Well, think what you want, but we have one guy left, so let's just get it over with and we can call it a day."

"Fair enough." Nishiki muttered. "Pieri, it's your turn to go get him!"

"Pieri's on it!"

She walked out of the interrogation room, and skipped off to the prison cells. Most of them were full, thanks to Flannel's judgement, and the wolf was impressed with his efforts that day.

Surprisingly, Nishiki felt the same.

"I _told_ you I was more judgemental," Nishiki laughed. "Every guy that walked in said his story and I kinda wanted to believe all of it. Now that you mention it, they all seem too sad to be true. I mean, some humans are terrible, but most of them are just petty and fragile."

"And like _I_ said, you're just nice. You wanted to save them all, even if they did awful things. I mean, I don't really understand that, but I guess it's how you see things." Flannel muttered, scratching his cheek. "But... _thanks._ For being here with me, I mean. With you and Pieri helping me out, I didn't feel as weird as I would have if I did this all by myself."

"No problem!" the fox cheered, beaming at the other. "We all did our best, but you did the most work. It's because _I_ was here. My beauty is inspiring, isn't it?"

"Ha," the other joked, " _sure_ it is. Although I don't think it's your beauty that motivated me today."

"Oh?" Nishiki asked, almost sounding offended. "What _did_ inspire you today, Flannel?"

He stared at the other, mulling over his mind for an answer. Flannel's thoughts, embarrassingly enough, consisted mostly of Nishiki. _What inspired me? Maybe it's y_ _our kindness, or your smile. Or your face when I say something surprising, or the way your ears move like an excited pup. And also your beauty, but it's all of you, really._

_It's all of you._

"I don't know," he lied. "Must be the nice weather we're havin'."

"It's snowing outside."

Flannel blushed, and turned his face away from the other. "S-Shut up..."

Nishiki burst into giggles and laughed at Flannel's expense. It made the wolf relieved in some weird way, and he sighed out a breath he did not realize he was holding. Just as he was about to come up with something sarcastic to reply with, Pieri returned. Her smile was as bright and unknowing as always, and she practically sang. "Pieri's back with the last prisoner!"

"Good," Flannel said. "Let's get this over with-"

He stopped short, voice trailing off in sheer terror at what he saw. His arms fell down lifelessly to his side, mouth and throat failing him as no noise came out. Pieri and Nishiki were both concerned with his sudden mood change, and looked between each other for the answer.

Finally, Nishiki spoke out his concerns, asking Flannel: "What's wrong...?"

Then, the youko saw _exactly_ what Flannel was afraid of. Trailing behind Pieri was the last prisoner on the list, and as he entered the room filled with an instant aura of darkness and dread. The length of the skirt, combined with sheer fabric and dark symbols, made up the familiar image of a dark mage.

But it was not just _any_ dark mage. No, it was a certain dark mage that both Nishiki and Flannel had encountered before. He had distinctly deep set eyes and a crooked grin. His smile was triumphant and smug, as if he was the interrogator instead.

Somehow, it was the same dark mage that they met some time ago, the one that sic'ed the Nosferatu on them like dogs. The same Nohrian that wanted their furs for the black market, that caused Nishiki so much pain and grief that Flannel was sure he paid for it.

 _I killed him._ Flannel worried frantically. _I killed him already! How is he here? How is this possible?_

The atmosphere was utterly silent. It felt like hours before the prisoner finally spoke, and broke the awkwardness with his voice, which was terribly calm and in control. "Well," he said, " _this_ is a predicament."


	11. K

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a bit longer to come up with. The words evaded me and overall, my life has gotten a LOT busier. I could go into details but long story short, my birthday is this Saturday! I probably might disappear for another few days, but hopefully this chapter is enough. 
> 
> Also, thanks for the guesses! I mean, it was probably really obvious what 'K' stood for, but I had fun at watching you guys guess, anyways!
> 
> WARNING: there is a lot of descriptions of gore and violence in this chapter! The title also speaks for itself, y'know.

**Kiss**

n. _touch with the lips as a sign of love, sexual desire, reverence, or greeting._

* * *

"Hello? Are you guys okay? Pieri thinks you've been staring at the prisoner for too long now. Helloooo?"

The two of them were stuck in a terrible stupor. The mere image of the mage before them was something that boggled the mind. Flannel was sure that he had set out to kill him before, and that he succeeded when his beautiful blood spread like falling cherry blossoms before him, with his magic-laced bones cracking into delicious pieces of human mosaic.

Flannel was sure that he heard his cries for help and his pleas for forgiveness, until his voice was all but silenced underneath the garou's fists. So how could he be standing there now, next to Pieri, if he was supposed to be dead already?

How?

"Pieri doesn't like it! Can you two please speak up? Why are you ignoring me?! Do you hate me?!"

Nishiki snapped out of it long enough to notice her panicking, and quickly tried to cover it up. "We weren't ignoring you, we swear! And we don't hate you, Pieri. It's complicated, really, but I'm over it now. Anyways, we should get to the interrogation part, so-"

"Kill him."

The sudden command was shocking, and when Pieri smiled, Nishiki frowned. His eyes were full of fear, not because he was afraid of Flannel, but rather he felt scared of the sudden aggravation in his voice. This was a touchy subject, sure enough, seeing as the mage's presence alone made the garou extremely hostile.

It was showing in his eyes, which were flickering with the flames of hatred and revenge. They were red and fiery, filled with dark streaks in which Flannel fantasized ripping apart the dark mage in front of him until he was nothing but insignificant strips of flesh and cloth.

Nishiki had to placate him, somehow. "W-What are you talking about, Flannel?"

"There's no way in _Hell_ we're letting him get out alive. I don't even know how you survived, but I'll make sure it _won't_ happen again. I'll kill you _twice,_ if that's what it takes!"

"Stop!" Nishiki insisted. "I know that he probably deserves it, but we shouldn't jump to any conclusions, you know? You at least gave the others a chance...!"

"Give him a _chance?_ He hurt me. He hurt _you,_ " Flannel growled, clenching his fists until his claws were buried in his skin. "I won't forgive him."

"We can't just kill him right here!"

"Yes, you can!" Pieri piped up, swaying back and forth on her toes. "Pieri does not know what this prisoner did, but if he made you two angry, then you should kill him!"

"Exactly."

The wolf brandished his claws again, their sharp edge gleaming in the dull light from the window. The dark mage stared at their lethal point, unflinching and unafraid. A wide smile spread on his face. "Ha, ha. Go ahead, wolf, do your best to try and kill me. You may succeed this time, but you would have failed in the long run."

" _Shut up!_ "

The captive shook his head, and stepped closer to the garou. Nishiki was unsure what to do, and he looked to Pieri for guidance. She seemed excited, yet hesitant about the situation in front of her. Perhaps Flannel would snap and kill him right then and there, or the mage would suddenly pull off some flashy trick, but no matter what she was looking forward to the inevitable bloodshed that would occur.

Ironically enough, bloodshed was the _last_ thing that Nishiki wanted now. But how could he intervene, without endangering himself one way or the other? He had no time to think of anything, before the prisoner spoke up again.

"You would like that, wouldn't you, garou? After all, this probably isn't the first time something happened to you that you couldn't explain. You remembered killing me and yet here I am. Not to mention other occurrences. Like, how coincidental would it be, if you suddenly found yourself at the bottom of a cliff, without remembering even going there?"

Nishiki's heart dropped. The incident at the border mountains was some time ago, but he never truly forgot the fear he felt when he found Flannel at the bottom of that cliff without so much as an explanation. And judging from the new look of surprise and disbelief on the garou's face, he was going through the exact same feeling.

Was it possible that this dark mage was the one who forced Flannel to fall down the cliff, and manipulated his memory of the events thereafter? And afterwards, when seeking revenge for the Nosferatu attack, that Flannel killed an illusion of the mage? Or worse, that there was no mage there to begin with?

The Hoshidan wanted to ask all of those questions and more, but he was beaten to the chase.

"Now you're interested, aren't you? Well, the truth is, you have _no_ idea who you're dealing with, beast. You'll never find out because by then, it would have been too late. You and the youko there, your fur will make _lovely_ linings on our coats. Yes, we'll kill you, and smoke the rest of your pack out. We'll eradicate you from the face of this earth, and there's nothing you can do to stop us! Yes, yes, there's an _us._ Isn't that great? Once you kill me, the others will act, just you wait and see. And here you thought you were going to interrogate _me_ , haha! Ha, ha, ha...!"

His words dragged on for an eternity. Pieri was losing patience, and did not think twice before tightening her hand around her lance. One good swing ought to have been enough to silence the scumbag, but she found that her assistance was not needed.

Right before their eyes, Flannel had transformed. Each word that the mage spoke only further induced his anger, up to the point where his sight was blinded by a startling image of crimson fury, and his body was weightless underneath the pressure of adrenaline and stress.

His claws shot out, and in seconds he buried their sharp ends into the mage's core. The Nohrian choked, and spat out a gross amount of blood from his mouth. But Flannel did not spare him the merciful moments of understanding, and instead roared as he tore upward, cleanly cutting the mage in half from the waist up.

By then, he was already dead. But Flannel did not stop there. No, he howled viciously, shredding the mage's body in vertical movements until his front side was entirely cut up, unrecognizable as the flesh and bone was shaved off in quick slices. It was as if the mage was a block of cheese instead of the person he was, but it did not even matter to Flannel. He did not care about the splashes of blood that clung onto his fur and splattered on the walls, nor the bones that cracked and shattered underneath his punches like twigs. He _definitely_ did not care about the mage's flesh, which flew like chunks of torn up lunch meat.

Nothing mattered as the garou tore and tore and _tore,_ and he tore until there was nothing left but the ungodly remains of a person, until the dark robes were dyed red and lost in between the blood and the body.

Nishiki wanted to cry. He had never seen such brutality before. Even in the forest, where the two of them had killed the spies, Flannel had left them all in tact! Kamui thought they probably tore them apart, but what really happened was that they disposed of their bodies by throwing them into caves and over cliffs. Flannel had once joked that he loved the taste of human, but Nishiki was starting to realize the horrible reality of it all.

He was _not_ joking. The wolf had eaten humans so many times before, and the fox felt silly for thinking it was all a lie. But this wolf in front of him would eat up that mage over and _over_ again, if it meant debasing him further. If he could damn him further, make his departed soul cringe and scream for his body's mercy, then Flannel would all but eradicate him entirely, leaving no evidence of him being there except for the grotesque blood stains.

 _I have to stop him,_ Nishiki thought. _Before he actually eats him!_

Pieri was one step ahead of him. She loved blood, but this was _too_ much, even for her. She barely remembered that she was even there in the first place, lost in the savage display before her. Her mind was full of doubt and hesitation, but she forgot about her momentary worries as she screamed and latched on to one of Flannel's arms.

"Stop!" She yelled. "Stop, please! Pieri wants you to stop!"

" _LET GO OF ME! "_ he howled, shoving her off to the side. " _GO AWAY. "_

Nishiki ran out, and caught Pieri as she was thrown off, like a bug or a piece of trash. He prevented her head from colliding with the wall or the floor, and in a broken breath, he asked: "Are you okay?"

"Pieri is fine!" she gasped out, barely standing up straight. "If we don't stop Flannel, then he'll never stop! He'll tear this whole place down!"

"You're right," he muttered, ears falling down in accordance with his mood. "But you saw the way he threw you. _I'm_ the only one that can stop him, and even then, in my youko form, I'm weaker than he is!"

"But you're _faster,_ " she pointed out. "Stop him before he gets worse! Please!"

Nishiki looked between her and the wolf, and noticed that there was virtually nothing left of the dark mage that spoke just moments before. There was only an irremovable stain in the wall, and Flannel was starting to cut through the stone, as well. If he did not stop him now, then his rage would boil over and consume him, and Gods know how long it would take to bring him back.

In a swift movement, Nishiki transformed, and nudged Pieri out of the room. "If I don't get him calm in ten minutes, get Kamui."

Pieri hated the thought of leaving them alone, but she was utterly powerless when it came to facing Flannel in his garou form. She gave a silent nod, and ran out of the prison.

When she was gone, Nishiki looked towards Flannel, who was screeching with pure rage and ferocity. A deep anxiety rooted itself in his stomach, but he had to ignore it.

 _Alright,_ he thought. _Here I go._

...

It felt like an eternity before he finally moved. The fox leaped into the air, and scratched at the garou with enough force to grab his attention, but not hard enough should he injure him.

"Flannel!" He screamed. "Flannel, _stop!_ He's dead already, okay? He's dead!"

" _NO!_ " Flannel's voice was deafening as he nearly screeched in Nishiki's ears. He shoved Nishiki off in an attempt to subdue him. " _STAY OUT OF THIS!_ "

"Absolutely not!" Nishiki denied, and in a swift movement, he pounced again. His fangs buried themselves in Flannel's shoulder, and the wolf screamed. He stumbled backwards, and raked the air in an attempt to throw the fox off of him.

" _WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! GET OFF OF ME! GET OFF!_ "

" _NO!_ " Nishiki roared, volume spiking in attempt to match Flannel's. "No, I can't do that! You have to _stop,_ Flannel. Look at him, he's not even _there_ anymore! Don't you see? You're not yourself right now! Let go of him, please! Please, _stop_!"

Each breath was getting harder to maintain, between screaming at Flannel and working the energy to actually try and stop him. Not to mention that he was giving him such a hard time, too. Flannel's warped cries and shouts were painful to listen to, and his body was so rigid and hot that Nishiki wondered if it was possible to die of stress.

Suddenly, a wringing pain struck him in his tail, and Nishiki screamed.

It was Flannel. And for a second, scarlet eyes met obsidian ones, but there was nothing in there but a wild anger and uncontrollable vengeance. It was all too easy to slip away from the garou's grip, but the wolf would not allow him that luxury. Without hesitation, he swung the fox in his hand like an ax, only to let go and throw the youko to the far side of the room. There was a sad and pathetic yelp as his back collided with the wall, and the wind from his lungs deflating instantly. He was rendered helpless in a single motion, all because he let his guard down.

There was no stopping Flannel now. Nishiki was sure that the wolf would lose all restraint, and tear down the fort if that was what it took to make himself feel better. But he was suddenly silent, tame almost, as if something terrible would have happened.

His fury was like a freight train that came screeching to an earsplitting halt when Flannely finally realized what he had done. His eyes, dreadfully dark and still burning with determination, lowered in his self awareness.

 _Oh Gods,_ Flannel thought, _what did I just do?_

Nishiki blinked, and wondered what had made him stop so suddenly. His madness was cut through all at once, and there was nothing left but a shocking silence and heavy air. Unbeknownst to the youko, the top of his head was cut open, and a deep gash formed which pooled over in thick streams of red. His tail was marred from Flannel's touch, as well, crimson blood staining his beautiful, orange fur.

It was not until the blood from his head spilled into his eyes did Nishiki understand what was happening. And in that moment, he saw the large garou shake and tremble like a lost child.

 _No,_ Flannel thought again, _I hurt him. Oh Gods, I hurt Nishiki. I hurt him, I hurt him, I hurt him, I hurt him...!_

_I HURT HIM._

The wolf yowled, and broke through the prison walls. He was a monochromatic blur as he left, but Nishiki swore he saw him crying. The youko's accuracy of sight, however, was not to be trusted, as combined with the pain and the delayed injury from being thrown, his vision was mixed into a disgustingly sick shade of red and black.

The last thing Nishiki heard before blacking out was a frantic Pieri, and another voice whose sound was lost to the oblivion.

...

A week or so had passed since then. The incident at the prison was all anyone could talk about, although chatter was silenced whenever the youko or garou had passed by. No one thought of them as lesser beings because of it, but there was an obvious and inherent fear in their eyes.

Flannel had snapped on his closest friend. What did that mean for the rest of his allies?

But Nishiki never took it in that way. No, the youko felt like _he_ was the one to blame for all of it. If he had not been so fragile in that single moment, then he would have never gotten injured. For the most part, he was utterly bewildered at how _fragile_ he apparently was, seeing as a single impact to the head was all it took to do him in.

Flannel had gotten the best of him, that was for sure. He was thankful that the pain was only temporary, and that youko bodies heal more quickly than human vessels do. Even Sakura was surprised at his recovery, although that by itself did not mean much to Nishiki. His body was more resilient, and what seemed like life-threatening injuries were more of little hiccups in the fox's immaculate health. His unconscious self remained that way only for a few hours, until his whole being regained energy and awareness as if suddenly brought to life. And the injuries took less than a day to heal, but the youngest princess of Hoshido still demanded that he come in for checkups and extra medicine and such.

It was more of a formality than anything else. Yet he did not seem to mind, not when getting unnecessary medicine meant getting a chance to be with the Hoshidan princess, or having his fur be brushed and taken care of.

Sakura ran the soft bristles through his tail gently, and could not resist petting him at some point or another. When she was completely done, she wrapped a certain part of his tail with gauze as the last safety measure. Her eyes were soft and kind, and she bore a warm expression on her countenance. "I'm impressed with how well you are. I mean, c-compared to you, a h-human might not have...well, you know..."

"Yeah, no, that attack _totally_ would have killed you guys! You humans are so breakable sometimes!"

"..."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sakura. I shouldn't joke around, but I hate seeing everyone so stressed like this. Especially Flannel. He probably feels the worst right now."

Her eyes were downcast as she adjusted the bandages on Nishiki's forehead. "I k-know it's not his fault. It was a thing that happened i-in the moment...and everyone makes a big deal out of it, but...you're c-completely healed."

"Mmm-hmm!" Nishiki agreed. "I don't blame him, and the others are all so finicky! Humans love to gossip, don't they?"

"I-I think it's their way of being concerned. I'm not so sure myself, but if there's one thing I know, it's that you should...you should...!"

"Should what?" He asked, tilting his head. "Come on, you can tell me."

"You should let Flannel know how you feel!" Sakura suddenly cried out. "Let him know that you don't blame him for it. Elise told me t-that people like him need to be reassured t-that's it not his fault." The Hoshidan princess sighed, fumbling over her words more than usual. She fidgeted with her own fingers, seemingly ashamed that she could not carry herself without a stutter or two. Nishiki never minded, however, and he simply patted her shoulder affectionately.

"Thanks," he muttered. "I'm sure he's torn over it, but I guess it's my job to cheer him up! And don't look so down, okay? You're really good at this, y'know!"

"G-Good at...healing?" The girl blinked, and stared at the work in front of her. "W-Well, it's the least I can do, since I d-don't know how to fight for myself."

"That can always change!" The youko reassured. "Because anyone can swing a lance around, but it takes _real skill_ to patch someone up proper! Don't sell yourself short, okay?"

"I w-won't. Thank you, Nishiki, for your kind words. If that's all, then you should probably get going. Try not to strain yourself, still. A-And tell Flannel I said 'hi'? If that's alright, I mean, I always wanted to talk to him myself but he's been on edge lately."

"I'll do my best!" Nishiki said, and he looked at her happily as he left. "I'll tell him you said 'hi', then. And try not to be too afraid of him, y'see. He's really a nice guy!"

With that, the fox ran off, shifting into his true form in mid-stride. His scarlet eyes were shining brightly with the possibilities of the future. A future where, after all of this blew over, he and Flannel could laugh again without any worries.

Without any fear.

...

The garou was not far off. He was sitting on his favorite hill, watching the sunset. Normally, such an experience would be shared with Nishiki, but Flannel made a point of avoiding the youko ever since the accident at the prison. Even if days had passed since then, and all the damage was fixed, the wolf still felt an overbearing weight of guilt in his chest and on his shoulders.

Everything was perfectly fine now, what with the prison being refurbished and Nishiki more so, but Flannel was still broken up over it. No amount of cleanliness or reassurance would be enough to convince him that he was not the villain of the situation.

Not even Nishiki himself, who came up beside Flannel on the grass. There was a strange sort of look in his eyes, something mixed with confusion and sympathy. He did not speak, nor reach out, but instead he just kept his honeyed gaze on the other.

They were silent.

And silence left space for Flannel's mind to disorganize itself, lose itself in a frenzy of emotions and thoughts. There was regret, worry, anger, and pity. There was the flashing scene of the dark mage's smile, then nothing as his body was shredded to pieces. He remembered Pieri's screams, her annoyance and her desperation. He remembered flinging her like a spec off his shoulder, and he remembered Nishiki catching her just before she could get hurt.

He could hear the fox's pleas ring endlessly in his head, and feel his teeth sinking into his skin as a last minute alarm to his monstrosity. He heard the cries, the sickening snap as the youko crashed against the wall, and the crimson red that came from _his_ body.

The silence let the scenes replay themselves in his head, and Flannel _hated_ it. He could not stand it anymore, so for his sake more than than anything else, he spoke.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, eyes glued to the ground. "I'm really sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" Nishiki asked honestly. "It's not your fault."

"You can't be serious!" Flannel groaned. "I _hurt_ you, and that's the last thing I wanted to do, but it still happened. I hurt you, Nishiki."

"You," he said, "could never hurt me. At least, not in a way that I won't forgive you. It was an accident, really. And it's not your fault at all. I refuse to believe it otherwise!"

Flannel sighed. "You don't have to say that for my sake."

"Yes, I do." Nishiki smiled. "You're really hard on yourself, y'know? And I just don't say these things for the sake of saying them! I mean it, you don't have to apologize."

He did not respond, thinking hard as he pushed his thumbs against each other. His face was reddened again, and his humiliation and guilt were to blame. Flannel hoped that it was not so blatantly obvious when he coughed into his fist.

"I know I don't have to. But I _want_ to. Because the only reason I got so angry in the first place was because I couldn't stand his stupid face, laughin' and jokin' at me and saying all sorts of weird crap. And I didn't even think twice about it, y'know? Because I don't have patience for that sorta stuff.

Like, it's his fault I fell down the canyon in the first place. Not to mention that when I went out t' kill him, I guess I killed some illusion or fake instead. And the things he said, about hunting us and having a whole group of poachers behind him? He was probably telling the truth. There's more folks like him, y'know. People that want our fur and don't even care, that think we're just beasts to be hunted or somethin'. They forget that we can be human, too."

Flannel sighed, breath short as his long string of words left him winded. Nishiki simply nodded and hummed in response, and leaned his head against the wolf's shoulder. He tensed up at first, but gave in as Nishiki got closer to him, almost stubbornly as if to let Flannel know that he would not get out of it so easily.

And when he stared at the top of the other's head, he noticed what a pretty shade of orange his hair was. It was like the setting sun they were watching, the darker strands reminding him of the earthy soil beneath them. And Nishiki's hair was softer than any pillow or feather, not to mention his fox ears which slumped downward, showing his content and comfort.

 _How?_ Flannel thought. _How can he be over it so quickly?_

"You sure worry a lot, Flannel. You're seriously way too hard on yourself. I mean," Nishiki paused, "I know a few good ways to de-stress. You should try them, sometime."

"Am I? I don't think so. But about that relaxing, maybe I'll try it, who knows? I'm not one to refuse. Although you can't be too relaxed all the time, y'know. Letting your guard down like this isn't good all the time."

The youko giggled. "That's silly. You're usually the one who refuses _everything._ And plus, you're my friend, why _shouldn't_ my guard be down?"

"T-That's not true! And, well, because as your _friend,_ it's my solemn duty to find out if you're ticklish or not!"

"Flannel, I hope you're not serious." Nishiki quickly removed himself form the other's side, and stared at him with wide eyes. "Don't you dare!"

Flannel ignored him as he dug his fingers into the crook of the Nishiki's neck, moving them into his sides and under his arms. The fox smiled, and started laughing uncontrollably, body flailing around wildly in an attempt to squirm away. Flannel smirked, and pounced on him, running his fingers along Nishiki's arms, legs, and neck. Each time that the youko blocked one spot, the garou would go for another.

"S-Stop! Haha, that's unfair! Ha, ha! F-Flannel, I'm _serious,_ you have to stop! Ahaha!"

"No way! Not when I've found your ultimate weakness. Forget about beast killers or traps or broken mirrors! This leader of the all powerful youkos is _ticklish!_ "

He kept going, until the other was forced to crawl away, laughing as he barely dodged the garou's playful touch. They ran around the hill like a couple of kids playing for the first time, the sun setting further and further down the horizon. By the time they were both out of breath, only a sliver of the orange light remained in the sky.

They fell down the hill and laughed so _hard_. Nishiki's breaths were interrupted by wheezes as he _finally_ got a chance to catch his breath. Just a few feet away from him was Flannel, who was flat on his back and lost in a fit of giggles. He wiped away tears of mirth, and held his stomach with his hands.

"T-That's rich! Oh, Gods, you ran like a little pup!"

"Excuse _you!_ Tickling people, really? What are you, a kit?"

"Haha! You wish!" The wolf sat up, and quieted the last remains of his laughter. Nishiki, calming down as well, found his place back at the other's side, but made sure to leave enough space between them this time. After all, there was no telling if a second tickle-attack would be on its way.

"Seriously, though, you're too much! But hey, at least you're smiling again." The Hoshidan pointed out, seemingly triumphant. "Next time you want to sulk for days and ignore everyone, don't. Just go here instead and I'll chase you until your sadness disappears and you can't help but laugh!"

"Oh, _please._ " The Nohrian exasperated. "There won't _be_ a next time. I'm not letting you get hurt again, y'know? But if I ever feel sad, then maybe I'll take you up on that offer and tickle you again."

"Don't," Nishiki cut in, "tickle me again. I'm serious, I held back this time, but nothing will stop me from kicking you in the face by accident."

"Oh, fine." Flannel sighed. "But I _was_ serious when I said I'm not letting you get hurt again. At least, not if I can help it."

"That's impossible, Flannel. We're in a war, we're always gonna get hurt. Besides, what are you gonna do? Be at my side for every battle?"

The wolf was silent and sighed out in reply. He ran a hand through his hair, grasping at the strands as he did so. He gave a sidelong glance to the other.

"That's not such a bad idea, y'know."

The fox's ears perked up in surprise. "Wait, really? But won't that get tiring, being next to my beauty all the time?" A playful smirk crossed his face. "You won't feel threatened or anything? 'Cause you know more than anyone that I'm not just a pretty face."

Flannel chuckled. "No, I promise you that won't happen. Why would I feel threatened around _you?_ I mean, 'cause, if anything, when I'm with you, I feel...!"

He gulped, choking back the words that threatened to spill out of his mouth. _You're gettin' ahead of yourself, buddy._ Of course, he knew no amount of cover up could hide this verbal blunder from his ever observant companion. Nishiki blinked, topaz eyes shrouded in curiosity. The garou was known for his stubborn and reluctant personality, but there was something about his words this time that sounded more honest, like he held a longing within him.

"What?" Nishiki murmured. "What were you going to say?"

"Nothing," Flannel deadpanned. "Seriously, it's nothing."

"It can't just be _nothing._ Is everything okay?"

What was he supposed to say, then? Explain his feelings in full? Play it off as something insignificant? There was no right way to deal with it, not without embarrassing himself in some way or another. But Nishiki never made him feel worse for wear, and he never prolonged the burning feeling of humiliation and insecurity that constantly found itself beside Flannel. No, for the majority of the time that Flannel had known him, the youko had been nothing but kind, caring, and unbelievably tolerant towards him.

And it was high time that Nishiki got his due payment.

"Everything's fine," Flannel reassured, "it's just that when I'm with you, I..."

"You...?"

He stared at Nishiki for a good, long moment. He stared at his soft hair and kind eyes, and admired his perfect skin and handsome features. He stared at his body, the way he was so lean and relaxed but still so careful, so graceful. He stared at the way his lips looked in the dying twilight, and the way that his ears folded forward, as if he was suddenly shy.

He stared, and in that moment, Flannel realized that everything he loved about the world was in Nishiki. Kindness, beauty, strength. Not to mention happiness, friendship, and _love,_ and the deep desire he had to feel Nishiki's skin, feel his heart and soul pour into him because he would do anything for this boy. All of his strife and denial was because of _him_ , and it was because Flannel had always forced his feelings back down, he had always hidden the painfully obvious truth away in a dark corner. But Nishiki was his light and he was shining through, and in that moment alone, Flannel knew what he wanted more than anything.

"Flannel? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Flannel muttered. "I just _really_ want to kiss you right now."

"Then," Nishiki asked, "what's stopping you?"

"Absolutely _nothing_."

Flannel reached forward, and brought Nishiki's face closer to his. Their lips hovered over each other, not yet making contact, the bare wisps of their breaths feeling warm and sweet on each other's skin. They stared for a moment, as if to ask each other, _are we really going to do this?_

But the minute that their lips connected, they knew their answer. Flannel reached in, and took Nishiki's lips between his, meeting their soft touch with a force of passion. And, Gods, it felt like everything fit perfectly in that moment. It was like their lips were made for each other, that their skin only existed to collide and touch. Their embrace was like sunshine and lightning, and every second was spent in an euphoric warmth and excitement.

Flannel was like the night. He was burning and dark, but so cold in those seconds that Nishiki felt shivers climb down his spine, _especially_ when the wolf's fingers found themselves lightly tracing the nape of his neck and the side of his face. His touch was light, ghostly, and exhilarating all at once that it left a heavy, haunted feeling in Nishiki's bones. His hair was like starlight, and Nishiki felt like he was parting the darkness and galaxies alike as he stoked his fingers along his head, feeling the soft strands intimately. Touching Flannel was like diving into cold water, and it made Nishiki feel light-headed and hazy, but he wanted _more._ So he sunk deeper and deeper into the other's hold, his heartbeat more erratic than the ocean waves.

Nishiki was like the day. He was bright and patient, but so strong and loving that Flannel felt himself smiling into the kiss, relishing in the pure warmth and light that he naturally radiated. His nerves settled and then unraveled again, because touching Nishiki was like skimming the burning edge of the fire. It felt hot, dangerous, but so _right_. He wrapped his arms around the other, bringing him closer because he did not want to know what it would feel like when they finally parted. He held him close, and breathed into him, and it was like he was basking in the sun, but instead of a star, Flannel found something that shone much, _much_ brighter.

They gasped for air in between, rendered breathless from each kiss that they shared. And there was so much more that they wanted to say, but there was nothing they could do that their bodies could not do for them. So they kissed again and again and _again_ , until their lips bled from biting each other, until their mouths were raw and wanting for more and less at the same time. They kissed until their hot and cold melted into a single feeling, until the night and day brewed a storm so loving and electric, it left them dizzy.

When they finally pulled apart, and their day and night were separate entities again, the sun had completely disappeared behind the hills, leaving them in a black and purple void. They stared at each other, and Nishiki smiled silently as Flannel thumbed his finger over his lips, wiping away remnants of blood and passion.

There was nothing left for them but the bare moonlight and their barer breaths.


	12. L

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Pieri has heterochromia iridium, a disease that causes mismatching eye colors. According to the wiki, the eye that is hidden underneath her hair is green, and it can actually be seen in one of her My Room animations.
> 
> Despite this chapter's name, know that I am incapable of writing scenes that go beyond kissing and touching and wanting. There will be implications, of course, but nothing more than that. Also, there is jealousy galore in this chapter.

**Love**

n. _an intense feeling of affection ;_ v. _to feel a deep affectionate, romantic, or sexual attachment._

* * *

Flannel did not know what to expect of Nishiki since their kiss. He worried frantically that their relationship would turn awkward, or that he had been too hasty in his decision. Saying that he was embarrassed was an understatement, and he dreaded that whatever bond he shared with the fox was ruined from his affections.

So when Nishiki seemed upbeat, _happier_ than usual, it made Flannel's heart light up. The two of them would smile at each other, and each conversation felt closer than the last. There was no doubt that what had happened between them only helped to _improve_ their relationship, rather than hinder it.

At least, that was what Flannel assumed. Otherwise, why else would Nishiki come back to kiss him again and again? Why else would they sit so close to each other, such that they could feel their heartbeats? Why else would Flannel invite him to his room, if only to be showered with affection and sharp kisses? The bite marks that lined the fox's shoulder and neck was proof of their love; the bruises and blood that spilled from the wolf's lips and fingers was evidence of their passion and ferocity.

And the garou knew this. He knew better than anyone, that what they were doing was something that only belonged to _them._ He was reminded of this, each time that the youko nuzzled into him and each time that his fox fangs would drag themselves along the edge of his lips, drawing blood and pain but never misery.

Nishiki would smile at Flannel, he would hold, kiss, and bite him. He would laugh and joke and play with him, but no matter _what_ he did, Flannel knew that it was all out of love and friendship and nothing more. It was a strong, overwhelming feeling, and it only grew stronger and stronger each time.

When Flannel thought of Nishiki, he sometimes imagined what his perfect body would look like underneath him, and what he would look like when he was pressed between the wolf and the ground, with nothing but stars in his eyes and fire in his skin.

That was when the Nohrian knew that for the first time, he truly, _truly_ loved someone. He loved someone so much that he wanted every inch of them to be _his,_ and he wanted the word 'Flannel' to be sighed out between beautiful lips. For the first time, Flannel felt that he loved someone _so_ much that he would give up his body and soul if that was what it took to be together forever.

He wanted Nishiki so badly, and he could not help but hope that Nishiki wanted _him,_ too.

...

"It's snowing again," Pieri said. Her eyes were glued to the window, watching the drifting flakes outside. "It's pretty."

"Yeah, it is." Flannel muttered. He flung the wash cloth around, not interested in the dirty tables that he had to clean up. Next to latrine duty, mess hall shifts were his least favorite chores to do. The wolf did not care for the chewed up food left behind, or the smelly mess that he had to wash away. There were good napkins and bent forks and other things that he secretly added to his collection, but the rest of it was as unsavory as the next.

Pieri knew this, but she still liked the idea of working beside Flannel anyway. Since their escapade at Mount Garou, she felt like she knew Flannel a little better. As such, she tied her hair differently, pulling it all into a ponytail in order to avoid getting her hair in the food or the pots. After all, she was the best cook in the army, and it would be a shame if she sullied her reputation by allowing a pink or blue strand of hair to get in the soup.

Flannel refocused his gaze from the snow to his partner, and gaped. "Your eyes!"

"Yes?"

"Well, I mean, you always wear your hair one side of your face, so I always wondered what was underneath."

"Haha. You probably think it's funny, right? Probably thought that Pieri had a missing eye or something. Well, she doesn't!" The cavalier huffed, and broke eye contact. "Are you making fun of Pieri? Do you wanna get stabbed?"

"It's a little surprising, but I'm not trying to make fun of you." Flannel insisted, picking up the rag again. He wiped down one of the tables for a moment or so before continuing. "I think your eyes are pretty."

She blinked, a bit surprised. Her irises were dissimilar, the one that was always revealed was a bloody red color, and the one that was always hidden was a startling shade of green. The verdant hue reminded Flannel of the emeralds in the mine, or the grass outside.

Pieri was not self-conscious about her mismatching eye colors. No, she rather liked it, but had a habit of covering it up when her bangs were down. For the mess hall shift, she had to pull the mass of blue and pink back, and Pieri also made a point of clipping her bangs up as well. It was a pleasant surprise, knowing that her companion actually _liked_ her temporary new look.

She smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

The garou continued his work, sighing over the wet rags and soap. Pieri helped him, opting to take care of the chairs and benches while Flannel worked on the tables themselves. They cleaned in tandem, arms outreaching in similar strokes. There were times where their elbows bumped together, or they shoved into each other by accident. Each time something like that happened, Pieri would look up and see Flannel's stubborn face, and he would mutter an apology between his lips. Those lips were so chapped these days, and there always seemed to be decorated with cuts and bruises for some reason. She also noticed his eyes and how they seemed so much kinder than before, crimson and violence and all. There was a new air about him, more to him than his usual scent, which was so comforting and dark because it reminded Pieri of all the things she loved.

It reminded her of bloodshed, murder, and terror. But those seemed understated in the essence of a new aura, something that was much more benevolent and loving, but no less fervent or forceful. Skimming underneath the surface of bloodlust and obstinacy was _desire_ and _happiness._ Pieri could tell, because those were the same feelings that she had started developing herself. She could not tell if they were true emotions, or simply fragmented versions of what her heart _used_ to be.

Because her heart and mind were fractured and split into thousands of pieces the moment her mother was killed. And she wallowed and wallowed until the only thing she could do was pick up those pieces, and use them to carve out eyes and stab through chests.

Flannel had told her that the shards of what she used to be was _pretty_ , and he never once showed her the same resentment or misunderstanding that other people tend to show. A simple bond between them was all it took for her to see herself in a new light.

The thought of being happy and the feeling of desire could easily coincide, along with ferocity and violence. Yes, within Flannel, Pieri noticed a new balance between monster he was, and the human he was becoming. She wondered if it was possible for her to find that same balance, if she could combine her broken pieces to create something new. Something that would bring her trauma and her sense together into one messed up, beautiful entity. Because like Flannel, Pieri wanted to find the line between happiness and despair, yet she wondered if she was even capable of such a thing.

When she looked at him, however, she already knew her answer. But those affirmations were buried deep within, and she stayed silent throughout the duration of the shift. The only sounds that were audible were the wringing of rags, and the dripping of water that Pieri could not help but equate to the sweet sound of spilled blood.

...

Orochi sighed in frustration. Today was the quite possibly one of the most miserable days of her life. All day, her fortunes were not only averted, but completely _wrong_ as the opposite effect had happened. Hinata was supposed to conquer his greatest foe, but was instead nearly killed in battle when unexpected reinforcements arrived. Setsuna was supposed to be trap-free, but fell into a new record of traps in a single day. She insisted that it was meant to be, but Orochi knew better. Not to mention that Belka was destined to find great fortune, but ended up losing all of her pocket money in a scrap.

The worst of it was Asama. Orochi had finally foreseen great disaster in his future, but instead the monk had the misfortune of hitting the lottery, and succeeding in obtaining Elfie's heart as well. The diviner predicted his tears and agony, _not_ his sudden milk money or new wife.

When he appeared before her, she could not help but groan defeatedly. His smile said it all, and Orochi had the nerve to punch him, if she were not so downcast. Instead, she settled for a dismissive wave of hand, hoping to shoo him away. "Not now, Asama. Go be cynical elsewhere."

"Oho? No jokes? No spells to curse the daylights out of me? Strange, Orochi. Have the Gods somehow replaced the you I know with some lackluster copy?"

"No," she deadpanned, rolling her eyes. "What, can't a retainer have a bad day? Especially the retainer who has seen the future and what it holds."

"Retainers are discouraged from anything that could detract from their duty in protecting their master." Asama said. "But in your case, I suppose it's alright."

She winced at his words. They were not as straightforward as usual, but she knew their intent. Of course, the heretic had been referring to Lady Mikoto, and her death had left Orochi without a true purpose in the world of retainers. For her to be called out on that misfortune, however, was harsh. More harsh than she should have been able to tolerate.

But what was the point of pretending? Especially when the monk could see through her so easily.

"I have no idea what Elfie sees in you," she insisted. "You're inhumanely cruel, Asama."

"Elfie and I have a shared philosophy. We both want to protect each other and the ones that we deem important. The fact that we love each other is an asides," he explained. "But, I don't mean to speak of the queen's name in vain. You're terrible and shrew, Orochi, but no one loved Queen Mikoto like you did. I'm sure that she would disapprove of your sighing and eye rolling, however."

"Ha. You, loving someone? If that's the case, then why is it so hard for me?" she chided, narrowing her eyes. "Of course, Lady Mikoto would probably scold me. She would say that I knew better or something. But the truth is that I haven't learned anything about love since then."

"Probably because you're so stubborn and you like to play with people's feelings," Asama answered, voice too cheery for Orochi's liking. "But it must be serious! What poor soul has the misfortune of being your object of affection?"

"Shut up," Orochi sneered. "Like I would tell _you_ of all people."

"Why wouldn't you? Unless it's _me_ you've fallen in love with, and in that case I can't help but laugh! Poor you, falling in love with a married man. Scandalous!"

"You pig-head! Of course it's not _you._ Married or not, you're the last man I want to fall in love with."

"Ouch. I'm hurting, really, I am. But if you don't want to get that monkey off your back, it's no harm done to me. You can wallow in your self pity all you want!" Asama smiled. "But if you keep lazing around you'll probably never get Nishiki to love you back."

She covered her mouth, eyes widening. "W-What? How did you know it was Nishiki?!"

"I didn't!" Asama cheered. "Honestly, I just came up with the first name I could think of. But, seriously? You're in love with _Nishiki?_ "

Orochi stomped her foot, face reddening in embarrassment. "You dirty little sneak! You tricked me! But now you know, so it doesn't even matter. _Yes,_ Asama, I'm in love with Nishiki. There. Just run off and tell him, why don't you?"

"Ha! How funny! But I'm not going to tell him. I think if you love him, that's something you have to tell him yourself! Are you so selfish, Orochi, that you would dump that responsibility on someone else?"

Her lavender eyes were narrowed. "I'm _not_ selfish. And I wasn't going to leave that to anyone, I just figured you would have told him because you just _love_ teasing me."

"I do love teasing you," he admitted, "but it's obviously so much more agonizing for you to tell him yourself! So I'll keep my mouth shut for now!"

"Just go away," she sighed out. "You're making things worse."

"Possibly. But if there's one thing I know about Nishiki, it's that he's _clueless._ He wouldn't really know how someone felt about him unless they showed him. So if you don't show him or tell him, he'll never know. Then, the war will end and he'll go back to his village and you'll never see him again!"

"...Asama..."

"But, that's enough for today. I would love to stay and watch you get torn up inside, but I _am_ married and I should spend my time with the one person that means something to me. Good day, Orochi."

The monk gave a lasting smile, before turning his back on the diviner. She watched his silly outline walk farther away from him, burning her stare into his back like she wanted it to set on fire. But he remained flame-free as he disappeared, and that left Orochi to herself. She slumped down against the wall, burying her face in her hands.

As terrible as Asama was, she knew he was right. She had to tell Nishiki how she felt about him, before it was too late. Even if he did not feel the same way about _her,_ or even if he secretly detested her, Orochi had to make it clear where she stood emotionally.

 _And that,_ she though, _is the most unpredictable misfortune I've ever had to bear._

...

Flannel had to tell Nishiki he loved him. He had never said those words to _anyone_ before, not even his family, because he hated being truthful and bearing more of his emotions than what was necessary. But if it was for Nishiki, then a few simple words of affection and truth were necessary.

Because Nishiki was so honest and compassionate, Flannel knew he deserved more than just a confession. And he loved it when they kissed or touched, it drove him _wild_ when he felt Nishiki's burning skin and warm lips,when he felt the cold scrape of his fangs. He loved it, but he never _said_ it, and he wanted even more.

He wanted more.

How would he go about telling him, then? Would he say 'Hi I love you let's go fuck now' or 'Gods you make me feel like the morning is worth waking up to' or 'you're better than anything in my collection and twice as pretty' or 'hey can I take your shirt off but like in a way where we're still cool' or 'I've never felt this way about anyone before' or 'I don't want to know what life will be like without you' or 'My head is so loud and when you kiss me it's quiet and I can hear the universe around us and your heartbeat is like a drum and I love every minute of it'?

There was no way of knowing which approach would work, if _any,_ but Flannel could not hesitate any longer. There was nothing that kept their bond permanent and private, and there was no telling if someone or another wanted Nishiki's heart the same way Flannel did. If he did not make a move, he would lose his chance forever.

And the garou would never forgive himself if he let the light of his life slip through his fingers like the fading sunshine he was.

...

Orochi had to tell Nishiki she loved him. She knew it, Asama knew it, and if she told her best friend Kagerou, she would probably know it, too. Orochi threw her words around so casually that most people could not really tell if she was being serious or not. But Gods, she loved the fox boy and his kind smile and warm skin. She loved his fur, his eyes, and his hands, especially when they brushed against hers.

She loved his honesty and good attitude, even if she was dishonest and petty herself. She loved it when he greeted her 'hello', or talked to her, or even _walked_ next to her. Orochi could not handle it when he would lean in, speak closely in her ears, or ruffle the strands of her violet hair. It drove her _wild_ and it made her heart thrum uncontrollably.

She wanted more.

How would she tell him, then? Would she say 'I'm sorry for everything I've done but I love you so much' or 'Gods I can't believe I'm saying this but I think I love you' or 'The nights get lonely and I feel better when I think about you' or 'Let me repay you for your unending kindness' or 'I'll do anything to be a part of your life forever' or 'I don't know what love is can you teach me' or 'My head is empty and bare but when you're near me it's so loud and the universe is quiet and my heartbeat is still and it's like I want to die and live at the same time'?

Nothing that she thought of seemed appropriate, but an indecent answer was still better than none at all. She knew that there had to be someone else out there that loved the youko the way she did, and if she held back she would never have a chance to tell him in full.

And the diviner would never forgive herself if she let Nishiki slip through her fingers, which were as cold and icy as the moon.

...

The day passed on. The snow had not stopped, and the fields were drowned in mountains of white. Nishiki sat under a tree, watching the ice drift down to the surface. He caught a few snowflakes inside his tongue, and laughed when they melted.

It was so fun and so beautiful. He felt as if he could stay in that white wonderland forever, and forget about anything else in his life. Or, at the very least, he could lose himself in the splendor momentarily, and in that small fraction of time he would not be Nishiki of the youko hamlet anymore. No, he would be Nishiki of the snow, the sunshine boy in the nighttime ice.

Everything that ever worried him would disappear, if only for a moment.

He thought about sleeping in the snow, until a soft voice called out to him.

"Nishiki...?"

He opened one eye, and saw a hesitant figure standing over him. There was fear in a set of bright eyes, and anxiety in the movement of slender hands. More noticeable, however, was the rise and fall of the chest, which was erratic and shaky.

"Orochi," he greeted, smiling softly. "Wanna take a nap with me?"

She shook her head, pointing to the heavy winter coat she had on. "It's snowing, remember?"

"Oh, right. I forget sometimes." The fox stood up and stretched, yawning lazily as he did so. "Is something wrong? It's pretty cold for the humans right now, so you should probably get inside."

The diviner sighed and averted her eyes to the ground. "Well, it _is_ cold, but that's not the problem here."

Nishiki smiled. "You can tell me anything, y'know! What's on your mind?"

"That's exactly it, Nishiki. Nothing is on my mind as of lately."

"Uh," he tilted his head, obviously confused. "Isn't that impossible? You can't just not think about anything!"

"No!" She suddenly yelled, burying her face into her hands. "No, no! Gods, you're all but dense sometimes. Nishiki, what I mean is..." Orochi took another deep breath, swallowing the fear that was stuck inside her throat. She peeked between the spaces in her fingers, and looked up at the youko.

He could _not_ have made things any more worse than he did. His eyes were worried and kind, and out of concern he brought the diviner closer to him, ignoring her sudden yelps as she found herself pressed against him, her face buried in his sweet-smelling shirt. Nishiki rubbed the top of her head, pressing his face into it so he could kiss her hair.

"It's okay, you don't need to be so afraid. It's just me, y'know! Like I said," he took her hands, holding them in his own with such naivety and good will, "you can tell me anything!"

Her face was burning with embarrassment, and her hands were tingling with the intimacy of being held in his own. She stared up, and found nothing but comfort and familiarity in his sunny eyes.

She felt safe. A small smile appeared on her face. "Nishiki...what I meant is...!"

 _It's now or never,_ she thought, _Oh Gods, steer me right._

Before the fox could speak again, the diviner had already leaned forward, rising on her toes to give herself more height. In a swift, soft movement, she pressed her lips onto his. He yelped in surprise, backing away but finding himself pushed against the tree he was just resting under. Nishiki was trapped between the amorous diviner and the cherry tree, and figured that it was just as well.

She was so _naive._ Her eyes were shut closed, as if she did not want to see his face, and her lips were soft and warm but hesitant, as if they had never traversed onto another set of lips before. Her breath was hot and smelled like jasmine and mochi, and her scent was so familiar, but felt new and strange in Nishiki's nose. She was like paper and ink and silk, rolled up into one sweet smell.

It was endearing, it was cute, but it was _wrong._ And a moment or so passed when Orochi realized that he _was not_ kissing her back.

She pulled away, and there were tears in her eyes. Nishiki was wordless for once, and could only stare sympathetically, worriedly. _No,_ she thought, _no no no no. Oh Gods, what did I just do?_

She backed away, and covered her mouth with both of her hands, tears spilling over. "Oh Gods," she muttered, "Nishiki, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just...! I didn't mean to...I...!"

"Orochi..."

"Oh, I'm _unbelievable_ _,_ " she cried out, sobbing into her hands. "I'm such an _fool!_ I feel like so juvenile, w-what was I thinking?" Her words were lost in a heap of tears, voice cracking down underneath its own weight.

Nishiki felt an unbearable tear in his chest, like his heart was rendering itself. He felt awkward and ashamed, like this was somehow _his_ fault, and it probably was. All this time, he realized that his words and movements were so promising, such that he unintentionally lead her on.

He stepped forward, and brought a feather-light kiss to Orochi's cheek. She choked on her sobs, and looked up at him.

"Orochi, _I'm_ the fool. I shouldn't have been leading you on like that. Or, or whatever I was doing, I didn't want you to think that I...that I _loved you._ I like you, Orochi, I think you're really nice and you've been good to me, but I _don't..._ think of you in _that_ way."

"Y-Yeah, I could tell when you didn't kiss me back," she joked dryly. "But I see it now. Y-You love someone else, don't you?"

His lips twitched, but eventually curled up in a grin, and he nodded fervently. "I do. I love someone else."

"I see. I'm so sorry, Nishiki. All the trouble I've caused you, and all the tricks I played on you, only to confess that I-I love you..." She laughed in spite of herself. "I'm really...no good, am I?"

"That's not true," he insisted. "Yeah, you're a handful, but you're plenty good. You're _better._ "

She wanted to cry again, but simply nodded along. "Thank you, Nishiki. C-Can I ask you something...?"

"Yes?"

"C-Can I just...kiss you, one last time? Then I can leave this all behind."

"Orochi..."

"Please? Just a small kiss, it doesn't even have to be on the lips."

"...Oh, fine." He gave in, and leaned a bit forward so as to accommodate her height. She giggled in spite of herself, and reached forward to plant a kiss on his cheek. Her touch was feather-light as her lips brushed the surface of his face. Nishiki could not help but smile.

Orochi pulled back, but stared up at him still. _One more,_ she thought, _because I'll never be able to do this again._

Against her own word, the diviner shot forward, and pushed her lips onto his again. He yelped, pressing his arms to her shoulders to try and ease her off, but she persisted. Her lips were awkward and hot as she tried to match their shape into his, but he fiercely tried to keep his own mouth closed and his lips pursed, but Orochi's sudden strength bubbled up, and he found himself against the cherry tree again. It was quick, it was forceful, and it was over before Nishiki could even yell at her or shove her off.

He never got a chance to, however. He heard something drop, and make a _plop_ sound in the snow. Horrified, he turned his gaze in tandem with Orochi, and the two of them gawked.

It was Flannel, and his eyes were red and wide and full of unbridled emotions. Anger, sadness, confusion, frustration, _hurt._ It was all over his face, in his brows, lips, nose, and cheeks. It was in his mouth which stood agape, and his hands which started trembling badly. They shook and shook, until they stilled in the form of a clutched fist, until his mouth closed into a nasty sneer, until his eyes narrowed and there was only one emotion left in them.

_Anger._

_"Sorry,"_ the wolf hissed through his teeth. "Sorry that I ever thought I _meant something_ to you!"

"Flannel, _wait!_ "

Nishiki's voice was lost in the flurry of the snow. Flannel did not care, however, as he ran as far away from the two of them as he possibly could. His tears were hot and angry, and slid down his face and fell into the snow, dampening the flakes. His face was contorted into a sneer, an expression of unbearable pain and betrayal. It was all because of Flannel's possessiveness, seeing as that anything he treasured was automatically thought to be his. Nishiki was _his_ friend, _his_ love, and only _he_ was allowed the sweet surrender that were his kisses. It was impossible for Flannel to think that Nishiki to ever belonged to anyone else.

But the impossible had become reality, as it seemed that Nishiki was apparently preoccupied with a dangerous little sneak, a devious snake with amethyst eyes and tantalizing curves.

And her name was Orochi.

...

The snow had stopped falling, and the sun was shining through the clouds. But it felt pale and cold on Orochi's skin, and she was as still as a statue. The world around her was stagnant, and not the sound of clinking swords nor loud chatter could deter her.

Not even the sound of her best friend, Kagerou, whose stealthy mannerisms allowed her to be beside the diviner unnoticed. She was silent for a moment, and only spoke out when Orochi finally acknowledged her presence.

"Asama told me that you were going to see about talking to Nishiki. I had no idea you liked him, but as your friend, I support your endeavors wholeheartedly. I'm guessing you saw him already?"

"..."

"Orochi?"

"Kagerou, I saw him already." She murmured out, voice bland and emotionless. "I saw him."

"And?"

She looked up, lilac eyes brimming with tears and sadness. Yet her lips were curled into a smile.

"He loves someone else."

"Oh, I'm sorry. At least you got to tell him." The ninja sat down next to Orochi and brought her closer to her with an easy stroke of hand. "No matter how it turned out, I promise you that it's not the worse thing that could have happened."

"No," Orochi denied, and buried her face into Kagerou's shoulder. "No, you don't understand. The way it turned out was the _worst_ possible thing that could have happened. I kissed him, I shouldn't have, and I forced myself on him again. I said I wouldn't but I just...! I lied and I went in for another kiss."

"Orochi..."

"And I shouldn't have, you know why?" She laughed bitterly, voice tremulous and hoarse. "Because when I kissed him again, the person that he liked was there. And I saw it in his eyes, the way he was so hurt, because he was in love with Nishiki too, although he had no idea that I would have complicated things. He probably thought we were in love or something, because he had no idea that Nishiki had just rejected me."

"..."

"And he ran off, and then Nishiki chased after him, because he loves him. He really loves him, because he would never chase after _me_ that way. And I haven't felt this bad since Lady Mikoto left me, too. Gods, Kagerou, is everyone I love going to leave me? Or am I just going to push them away?" She sobbed. "I just push them _all_ away and it's my fault."

Kagerou shook her head, and pulled Orochi into a full embrace. She tightened her arms around her, and dug her face into her shoulder. The normally taciturn ninja felt sorrow now more than ever, and whispered out words of sincerity.

"That's silly, Orochi. You don't push out everyone you love."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't push out everyone you love," she repeated, squeezing her hands around her tighter, "because _I'm_ still here."

And Orochi broke out into tears, because for the first time in a long time, she felt genuinely happy that the future was still unpredictable, because it would mean that there was a possibility for forgiveness.

The sun was shining again, and Orochi felt warm.

 _Please, Gods,_ she prayed, staring up into the sky whilst hugging Kagerou, _Please listen to my wish._

_Please don't let Nishiki and Flannel suffer for my selfishness._

_Please._


	13. M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! There is animal death in this chapter.
> 
> Despite everything, I truly love Orochi. I feel like I'm writing her almost as if she's the bad guy in this work, but that's not how I think about her at all, haha. Anyways, like the last chapter, there are some, er, lovey-dovey stuff. Again, I'm not good with writing more than the kiss/touch/want. And jealousy is a theme throughout this whole story, but there's quite a bit of it here, again.
> 
> Moving on to a smaller detail, but the first dozen chapters or so had rather common words, words that people know the definition well of (i.e. bloodthirst, energy, flannel, illusion, etc.) with a few greater words in there for variety. From this chapter on, many of the chapter words will be more rare or complicated (just as the story is progressively getting more intricate) with the exception of a few simpler words.
> 
> Lastly, after going through Pieri's scenes and supports again, while she does speak in third person, she occasionally uses the first person "I", as well. So I changed some of her dialogue accordingly.

 

**Mundivagant**

adj. _wandering through the world_

* * *

Flannel stared at his ceiling. His head was dizzy and feverish, and it felt as if the world around him was spinning.

Nishiki was in pursuit of him not too long ago, chasing after him with some sorry excuse of why he was with _Orochi_ of all people, and why their lips were locked together in such a loving way. Part of the garou knew that it would be wiser to face the youko, confront him and hear the truth from his own mouth, but his nature would not allow it. His pride was always exact, and it would never be swallowed, not even for his own love's sake. To forgive Nishiki would be to give in, it would mean to accept defeat and modesty for what they were.

And Flannel was not like that. He was jealous, fierce, and possessive. He was a _wolf,_ and whatever he wanted to be his _would_ be his. He was never denied anything before, and he never denied himself anything. Flannel could be upbeat and goofy and jocular most of the time, but that did not mean he was not serious at other times, and his anger was full and volatile. He was known to be completely unreasonable and stubborn at times like these, _especially_ if he felt like he was wronged.

And oh, was he wronged. It was impossible for him to forgive Nishiki at present. He did not care if the fox begged or cried to him, seeing as they stood at a place that allowed no room for forgiveness. Or, at least, that was what Flannel wanted to believe. His anger was strong, but short-lived. He knew that once it blew over, he would find himself reasonable enough to hear Nishiki out again, and the unrest in his heart and bones would ease itself altogether.

But until that time came, the garou could only find comfort in his hate and jealousy, and he thought long and hard about whether or not he wanted to burn that stupid medallion (the one he had even worn to try and confess to Nishiki in the first place). He wondered if he could scrape the paint off, crush it to pieces, or break the string so the beads would go flying. Flannel threw the accessory at the wall, dissatisfied as it remained in tact as if full with a dull thud.

He buried his head into his pillow and sighed deeply.

_What a pain._

...

Nishiki searched everywhere for the garou. His scent had gone in different directions, lost in awry trails of presence. The fox knew that this was on purpose, that Flannel had confused his nose with misleading paths, and that feat would be easy to do considering that when compared to a garou, a youko's nose was lacking.

He was stronger than humans tenfold, but when it came to instinctive senses, the wolves had him beat. Nishiki knew this, and groaned in frustration when he lost the freshness of the trail some twenty miles out the castle gates, and figured that for the time being, Flannel was lost to his own anger.

He had no idea that the garou was resting in his own room, only leagues away from him. But Nishiki was none the wiser as he accepted defeat, and dragged his feet back inside the courtyard. He ignored anyone that tried to talk to him, including an upbeat Hinata and a sophisticated Tsukuyomi. Both of his friends seemed worried, but ultimately left Nishiki to himself as he sulked.

Nishiki went to one of the open spaces, and curled up underneath the large cherry tree. Sakura and Elise were both there already, and noticed the disheartened look on his face. They did not say anything as he transformed into his real self, and lost his muzzle in the bushy end of his orange tail.

The princesses simply stroked him consolingly, and the youko fell asleep to the soft thrum of their fingers.

He dreamed of Flannel.

...

Kamui thought that it was awkward when Flannel hated them, but it was _nothing_ compared to the wolf's behavior around Nishiki. Or, if he was even around the fox long enough to speak to him. There was an obvious disconnect between them, as Nishiki kept pursuing Flannel, but the Nohrian would evade him every time, barking harsh replies or ignoring him altogether. At meals, they sat on opposite sides of the room, although the Hoshidan would sneak glances at his counterpart, ears folded in and eyes downcast.

Flannel ignored him, although Kamui noticed the occasional wistful look he had, mixed with resentment from before but still blighted by a sort of shame. It was like a fire that was too afraid to burn, or lightning that did not want to strike.

It confused Kamui, but it also saddened them. If there were any two people in the army that seemed inseparable, it was Nishiki and Flannel. Everyone noticed their closeness, from the glimmering royals down to the most insignificant stable boys, everyone saw the bond they shared. It was almost confusing and disheartening to see that even a relationship like theirs could falter, could sever and break in on itself.

It made Kamui fear for Flannel, especially. Because if someone like Nishiki could get him resentful, there was no telling what Flannel was feeling about Kamui. They could not imagine that the garou's anger towards them had lessened by any means, but they could still hope that there was room for reconciliation. Because there was no doubt that Flannel would have to forgive Nishiki _eventually,_ and if that were possible, then the same forgiveness could be had for Kamui.

And until that day would come, the dragon-born would think of every way possible to try and fix their relationship.

 _It's the least I can do,_ they thought, _considering that they've done so much for me already._

_It's the least I can do._

_..._

"Flannel," Pieri said, "you love hunting, but what's the point of being in a hunting party if you're just going to leave me and the others behind?"

He pouted, but did not give her an answer right away. Instead, he looked at her, face contorted into an angry smolder. An irritated huff escaped his lips, as well as an eventual reply. "It's not my fault if you guys can't keep up."

"Pieri kept up just _fine,_ " she rebutted, "especially when she had to carry back the animals because after you killed them, you didn't even bother bringing them back! Is it my fault when you don't want to help?"

"I am _not_ in the mood," Flannel sneered, turning his gaze away. "A-And I'm not sorry about that, even if all those dead animals looked heavy..."

"Are you, or aren't you sorry? Pieri hates it when you get indecisive like that."

"Alright," he gave in, "I'm _sorry._ There, feel better now?"

"..." Her eyes narrowed, mind buzzing with a million different ways to pay him back his rudeness. A stab here, or a stab there, maybe a good shove or two ought to remind Flannel who he was. A soldier, a friend, a wolf before he was an enemy. It was so unlike him to be so negative, so Pieri could only guess that something terrible must have happened to him.

Something that involved Nishiki. She was positive that the fox was incapable of such slights, but he must have been if his closest friend was as down in the dumps as he was.

The cavalier sighed, and sat down next to Flannel. She crossed her arms, and tapped her fingers along the length of her armor. "...It's about Nishiki, right?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"You two seemed very close. And you both smell like blood, so it felt like we'd all be fast friends."

".."

"Pieri doesn't understand you, Flannel. You always make things complicated but then you get cold feet."

"I _said_ I didn't want to talk about it," he chided, voice rising louder. "You don't understand a lot of things about me, Pieri."

"Pieri thinks she does."

"Well, you're _wrong._ " The garou stood up, and buried the ends of his claw in the table. His eyes were smoldering again, although the stifled flames of hate threatened to burn over. Pieri refused to be intimidated, however, and stood up to better meet his eyes. She was shorter than him, naturally, but she countered his fire so well that he wondered if _she_ was the one looking down on _him._ He shoved the feeling of hesitation down his throat, and barked at her.

"You don't know me like you think you do. Just 'cause you spent a couple times hunting with me, up in the mountains with me, you think you've got me figured out? No, no one here really knows me, Pieri, and I'm sick of them acting like they do."

"One person knows you," she insisted, straightening her shoulders. "But for reasons that not even I know, you've been shoving him away. Pieri thinks you're the one who doesn't know anything. You don't understand what it's like to not have _anyone_ left. You have your pack, your friends, and Nishiki! Pieri has _no one,_ so don't you dare try to act like you're all alone."

Flannel's anger quickly morphed, still fiery, but transformed into something dreadful, something that edged with fear and trepidation. He wanted to speak, but Pieri was one step ahead of him.

"Pieri's mother was stabbed in front of her eyes. A servant had skewered her, one that had manipulated her and attacked her in ways that would break a person. She broke, and from then on Pieri's servants were not to be trusted. I killed them all, until there was no one left. And I was lonely, I was really _alone._ Pieri has no one left, and if it were not for Lord Marx, she would not have anything left to look forward to. She thought she found a friend in you, but if you still can't decide who your friends are, then Pieri will forget about you. Pieri will kill and kill and kill but she will kill _alone_ because that's the way she's always done things."

Her voice was cracking underneath its own weight, and tears stormed down her face, ruining her visage and stability. Her fists shook with such might, and when she let go and punched Flannel in the face, he felt her true power for the first time.

Her true despair.

"Pieri has always been alone! IF YOU DON'T WANT TO TALK, FINE! If you want to drag me along but then leave me halfway there, fine! Pieri will _never_ forgive you! I HATE YOU!"

She ran off, stumbling over the chairs and the rugs, but ultimately stayed upright as her bright figure bounded wildly, voice shrill as she screamed and sobbed uncontrollably. Flannel thought about chasing after her, apologizing to her, and explaining to her how he really felt. He felt like fixing things, but that feeling died down as he slumped back into his seat.

No, Flannel was no good at fixing things. Even if the things he broke ended up being close to him, he never bothered putting the pieces back together. His emotions were stirred up into a frenzy, and the only thing that kept him centered was the stinging sensation in his cheek, the lasting reminder of the girl who wanted to be with him.

The girl who deserved so much more than he gave her.

...

Orochi thought that kissing Nishiki and getting caught by Flannel was the most awkward thing to happen to her, but she was wrong.

Being put on scouting duty with Nishiki, Flannel, _and_ Pieri was probably the most awkward thing to happen to her. Not to mention that Kamui themselves joined their party, but their presence was just as estranged as the others, because no one really looked at them in the eye.

Especially not Flannel. He seethed with obvious distrust and frustration, such that Orochi could feel the heat emanating off of his skin. Nishiki was the near opposite, crestfallen in every way but one, but his smile could not fake the apparent hurt and regret he felt.

Orochi could not look at either of them in the eye. Instead, she stared at Kamui and Pieri, the latter who seemed especially anxious. She kept readjusting her gauntlets, her shin guards and elbow plates, even if the armor was immaculately applied. Her eyes darted around, the visible one landing on Orochi but never staying there for too long. The diviner had never felt more stifled in her life, and brought it upon herself to break the silence.

"Scouting? Isn't that what the _scouts_ are for?" She asked Kamui, crossing her arms. "I don't understand what we're supposed to be doing here."

"Ryouma asked me personally to investigate something," they explained, shifting their weight from one foot to the other. "I decided to bring the rest of you along because no one else was available."

 _What a lie,_ Orochi thought, smirking. _Asama was whining about having nothing to do. Not to mention that Nyukusu was talking about how the new spells she had learned in her free time. This whole thing is obviously set up._

"Will it be alright with just the five of us?" Orochi asked, twirling a strand of hair around her fingers. "Maybe we can ask some of the others to help. I saw Hinata earlier and he wasn't doing anything. And neither was Harold-"

" _It's fine,_ " the dragon-born explained, a bit too quickly than they would have liked. "With the five of us, it should be fine. You see, a few days ago, a town was raided by some warriors from Valla. It's nothing new, considering our situation, but something happened that was a bit different than usual."

No one seemed entirely moved by this explanation, but Orochi could see some shifts in the beaststone users, and a look of worry in Pieri's eye. She sighed, and focused her gaze entirely on Kamui.

"What happened that was so strange?"

"It's the people," Kamui said, "many of them died, but some escaped. When the survivors went back to the village to bury the dead, they were shocked because no one was there. There were no blood trails, no corpses, and the evidence of fire and fighting had all but disappeared."

A small smile crossed their face, and they stared each of them down with a look of curiosity. Finally, they spoke.

"They found the people that were dead," they said, "and they had all turned into statues."

...

"Statues?" Flannel finally spoke out, voice dull but unbelieving. "You expect me to believe that? Isn't that impossible? You can't just... _turn_ into a statue."

"Like, stone statues and all?" Nishiki added, picking at stray threads in his clothes. "They just...turned into stone?"

"Exactly," Kamui said, "they were all statues. And the townspeople discovered that the soldiers of Valla that attacked them also turned to stone. They were horrified, so naturally, Ryouma wanted us to deal with it. Because if our enemies somehow found a way to turn people into stone, then we could have a serious problem on our hands. Imagine, a giant battle where everyone's fighting and such, then suddenly BAM! We're all statues, ready to be put in a museum or a menagerie or something."

"So why did you take us?" Orochi exclaimed. "What if we get hurt?"

"I took you all for various reasons. Pieri, you have some of the highest resistance to magic out of all of the knights. Orochi, you are the most well-versed in counter cursing, and Nishiki and Flannel, neither of you are actually human so I decided that whatever spells they were using won't affect you the same way."

"So we're your meat shields," Flannel snapped. "What kind of hunt is _that?_ "

"You are _not_ shields at all! Um, how do I put this? You guys are probably the best people to bring along. The _strongest._ And I felt that you were lacking in responsibilities lately. I mean, I'm still learning a lot myself, but I make sure to put my fair share in. Not to mention your group manages to have the most free time." A smile threaded like a needle through Kamui's face, and there was something satisfying about the disappointed looks on their faces.

Faces that knew they were right. There was drama, problems between the four of them that allowed them a luxury other soldiers did not have. The luxuries being time, respite, and relief from the trouble they caused.

It was high time that they remember that before they were friends or enemies, they were soldiers.

And for better or worse, Kamui would be the one to remind them. _Although hopefully this will be a good break for all of us,_ they thought, _hopefully this will be the reality check that they need._

"Consider yourselves the most important people in the army right now. Our goal is to bring about peace, so let's do our best, okay?"

"How far away is the village? I want to know," Pieri insisted. "Pieri wants to take her horse. She misses him."

"You _should_ take your horse," Kamui agreed, "because the village is far away. The closest place that the astral plane will take us is some city that's at least a day's travel away. And don't look at me like that, you guys. There's only so much that a space-warping dimension can do for you, y'know."

...

Orochi was thankful that she did not have to ride Nishiki or Flannel. It was all too easy to ride with Pieri on her horse, and wrap her arms around the Nohrian woman's armor, clinging tightly enough to warrant balance.

The other three shifted into their true forms, and did leaps and bounds across the land. Flannel wanted to avoid Nishiki and Kamui as much as possible, so he ended up flanking the group, staying at a steady pace behind the horse. He was wordless and only the occasional grunt or bark signaled that he was still there.

Nishiki lead the group, despite it being Kamui's charge. He did not mind, however, as the empty horizon was a calming sight, and Nishiki could momentarily forget about the others as he stood in the front.

Kamui, in contrast, exercised a steady and easy control, striding alongside Pieri and Orochi, although towering over them by at least a story. This did not unnerve either of them, however, and Orochi found it comforting to watch Kamui's dragon form run beside them as sleekly as silver.

It was silent, but at least it was not awkward. If Pieri's armor were not so clunky, then Orochi would have liked the idea of taking a nap on her. But the metal plates stuck out and poked at Orochi's soft skin, so she shifted every so often to adjust herself. It felt like hours passing by, and they only stopped once or twice to give Pieri's steed a break, and when the stallion was rested enough again, they would resume their course.

And Orochi was surprised at the changing surroundings. They ran through woodland, forest, plains, prairies, and eventually stopped at the base of some northern mountains. In that one day's span of travel, the diviner felt as if she had already ran through a majority of the world. She recalled each thing with heavenly regard. The river which ran as clear as the sky, the flowerbeds of shocking colors unlike any Orochi had ever seen, the occasional weird and lonely hut on the hillside. All of them were small sights, but she enjoyed them nonetheless.

When they arrived at their destination, she almost felt sad. Riding behind Pieri was easy and fun, and now she would go back into the social fray that was working with Flannel _and_ Nishiki.

 _Gods,_ she thought, _let's hurry this along, please._

"This place doesn't look damaged at all," Flannel noted. "Are we in the right place?"

"This is it," Kamui answered. "I wasn't kidding when I said something strange happened here. But something's still wrong." They paused, and everyone hitched to a stop. Pieri, who was ready to reign in her steed, looked with anxious eyes.

"What? What's wrong?"

"When I left here earlier, this place was bustling with a dozen or so survivors. There were even more people from the next village over that came to help. And we stationed a small unit for protection."

"And yet," Nishiki added on, "there's no one in sight. Not even a cat or something. It's like this place is abandoned."

"Exactly. Something is wrong. Be on the lookout, everyone."

"That's just great," Orochi murmured, clutching onto her scrolls. She brought the spirit of a rabbit and a bird with her, the kanji of their characters engraved on the spells. With a simple motion, she could summon them and unleash magical terror on her enemies.

But it had been so long since she was in a real battle. The mock fights and training that she had with Tsukuyomi and Odin were nothing compared to the real thing. She remembered defeating a few foot soldiers in one scrap, but the last time she had a true struggle, one that filled her with fear and adrenaline, was back in the youko hamlet.

Back in that village with murderous foxes. Her glance unwillingly flickered to Nishiki, although his back was turned to her. Did he know her hesitation, she wondered? Did he still pity her?

 _He must,_ she thought, _we haven't spoken since that terrible day. Since I ruined things for him, royally. Gods..._

"Watch out, Orochi!"

She blinked, and turned her head. The spirit of calamity was rushing at her, but she was not fast enough to evade it. The full brunt of the spell struck her in the abdomen, and a loud grunt was made as she stumbled.

In front of her was a dark mage. No, a sorcerer. It had to have been, what with the feathery cape and the sheer clothing. A Nohrian was jeering at her, staring her down with eyes that glittered like beads. Yet his weapon was clearly Hoshidan, so that could have only meant one thing.

They were in bigger trouble than they realized.

Orochi fought back with a cast of the bird spirit, the bright green magic coming to life and striking at the sorcerer. The opponent let the attack hit her squarely in the chest, but she seemed entirely unfazed.

The diviner's heart sunk.

"Hah, how weak. The bird is too lighthearted, you see. It is the spirit of calamity and the dragon that makes a difference." The sorcerer spoke, accent thick with nobility and the dark tones of Nohr. They laughed, and the sound of it sent shivers up Orochi's spine. Her comrades gathered near her, and they thought to make a group attack, but that thought was put to rest.

More enemies came out from the village huts, revealed themselves from the cover of darkness. There were Nohrians and Hoshidans alike, and while the spirit of unity was something to admire, for once Kamui wished that the groups were separate.

Maybe there would have been less of them, otherwise.

"Who are you?" Kamui demanded, steeling themselves. They were in their dragon form, and all of the other enemies cowered before them.

All except the sorcerer, who smiled widely. "That's funny, because I know who you are. Kamui, the rumored royal from Nohr that somehow managed to bring the two nations together. While you fight a bigger threat, you count on the unity between darkness and light to hold the world together. You're Kamui, unbearably naive in thinking that such a bond could exist so easily."

"You seem to know a lot about me," they said. "Why? Who are you?"

"Of course I do. I had my sources in your army. Someone on the inside."

Orochi's stomach churned. She dealt with the issues of treachery before. Hoshido, as shining and bright as it was, had its fair share of distrust and lies. She remembered the nights of grief that Lady Mikoto suffered, the endless questions of loyalty and betrayal. She remembered that the mere thought of having a spy in their ranks was enough to threaten the system, the bonds they all shared.

That same feeling of betrayal and confusion is what caused the late queen's death. Orochi despaired at the thought of it recurring again. _Was there a traitor in the army we didn't know about?_ She wondered. _What does this sorcerer know?_

"No one would stoop so low as to betray their cause," Kamui reasoned. "Even if they had a good enough motive, all of my forces are the most loyal there is."

"Is that why you're standing so far apart from each other, then?"

Kamui blinked, and noticed that the enemy was right. Nishiki and Flannel were too far away again, and Pieri was edging off to the corner, where she seemed more concerned about her horse than anything. Only Orochi was close enough to warrant safety.

The dragon gulped, and hid their hesitation. "You're dancing around the question. You think that because we're outnumbered, that we won't put up a fight? You'll wish you had more allies."

"Haha, perhaps! No, but I meant, we had a person that managed to get inside. They're dead, however."

"Good," Flannel suddenly barked, his beaststone glowing with the soon-to-be usage. "We don't want anything to do with trash like you."

"That's funny, coming from the guy that killed him."

Flannel blanched, and Nishiki covered his mouth. They both shared looks of discontent, and Pieri quickly caught on and understood. In her face was the fear and anger from the jailing incident those weeks ago, the unresolved tension that stuck between all of them.

Was this the rest of the poachers that the dark mage mentioned? Were these the forces he spoke so highly of, the ones that swore to kill youkos and garous until they were but a story and a trophy?

Was it them?

"Yeah, you killed him. His name was, well, you don't really care for that, do you? No, monsters don't care for who they kill."

Flannel's temper flared, and he was in his true form within seconds. "Run that by me again, _human._ I didn't quite hear you."

"You're a monster. You had to be, who else could kill him so cruelly? Ripping him apart, such that I felt my own soul tear to pieces...how hypocritical of you, to kill _him_ above any of the other prisoners there. And yet you think I'm so bad for calling you what you are." The sorcerer smiled again, and stood forward. " _Monster._ "

"You wanna see him that badly?" Flannel guffawed, black eyes staring them down with a vicious intent. "I'll make it quick."

"Flannel!" Orochi suddenly spoke out, grinding her teeth in the mistake of saying his name in front of the enemies. "It's a trick, don't you see? She's just trying to get you riled up!"

As she spoke, Pieri mounted her horse, and Nishiki also transformed. Kamui, already transformed, started closing in on the sorcerer.

Everyone else was still, and Orochi thought jokingly if _they_ somehow turned into statues, as well.

"See what a monster you are? Having humans vouch for you...you really have their kind wrapped around your finger, huh?" She smiled. "Flannel, was it? I'm _Mara._ Although what are names to a garou? Nothing, as you continue to slaughter humans like a game."

"Flannel, don't listen to her!"

" _Shut up!_ " Flannel roared, and reached out with his claws. He was aiming for her throat, and was sure that no amount of magic could save her in time. His eyes were dark but alive with the rush of killing, the thought of anger but the feeling of excitement rushing through. His claws glinted, and he was sure that he would see the sharp edge of black and silver dyed red.

Instead, his hand went cleanly through the air, through the sorcerer that warped like fog or an apparition. His heart sank.

She was not _real._ None of them were, as Pieri's lance pierced nothing but the fake visions of soldiers, and Nishiki ran into a wall instead of the soldier that looked like he was there. Even Kamui's anger, about to unleash on a few smaller enemies, was halted as they realized what was going on. None of the poachers were real. Their bodies were fake and their presences nothing but illusions.

Only Orochi knew better, although she did not know they were fake. She only had the idea that something was amiss, and attacking too quickly would be a mistake. She wished that it were not so, and that the future held a new surprise for them, something to give them more of their bearings and more of a chance against their opponents.

Instead, the illusions all faded, and there was a raucous laughter erupting above their heads. They looked up, and in horror, saw the _real_ enemies, standing on the roofs of the buildings, glaring and spiting them from above.

Mara, the sorcerer, and presumably their leader, had a strange book in her hands. One that was silver with black writing, and yellowed pages that fell out as she used them.

" _Petrify._ This little spell made amusements out of the dead villagers, and trophies out of the semi-visible ones. We don't know why they're like that, but it doesn't matter. As long as their forms are human, the effects will be the same." Her gaze moved to Orochi, the diviner having been the one to go against them earlier. "I think you would make a beautiful statue, Hoshidan."

It was a fast moving spell. A stream of silver and black shot out like a snake on the attack, and ran in a straight line for Orochi. She shrieked and ran out of its way, barely missing it. But the fact that she was able to dodge it gave her a new momentum, and she raised her scrolls to counterattack. This time, the rabbit came out, and leaped from the magic and out into the fray.

A spear master, who was standing next to Mara, grunted as he blocked the attack with his wide blade. Orochi cursed, but was not fast enough for the next attack.

To retaliate, Mara had her Petrify spell, and directed its power was in a precise stream of magic, posed to hit Orochi in the face. Before its ungodly effects could take place, however, she found the attack being blocked by a massive body of black and white that stood in front of her. Still, she screamed as if she was hurt, anyways.

It was Flannel that had protected her, in his garou form, too. He grunted from feeling the attack full on, but still seemed to be statue-less. _It only works on humans,_ Orochi thought suddenly, _thank Gods!_

Her relief was short lived as Flannel barked at her to run, and Orochi knew why. The rest of the enemies drew their weapons. Half of them were archers or mages like Mara was, but all of them aimed their attacks with deadly precision.

Kamui's group was being picked off like mice being preyed upon by hawks. A flurry of arrows rained down on them, but Pieri managed to dodge each one. But her horse was less lucky, as an arrow or two struck it straight in the eyes, missing the rest of the protective metal that went around its face. That was their goal, she realized. They were aiming for her horse all along, and their plan had worked, as it fell down in one fell swoop, a pathetic and low whinny escaping its dying lips. Pieri screeched as she fell off her mount, and landed in the dirt by its side. She dodged more arrows that came flying in her direction, and cried out angrily. Pieri could do nothing but watch helplessly as her mount was killed over and over again, the archers' sharp edged arrows and long shafts burying themselves in its hide, in its face and in its legs. It was a motionless lump of meat now, rendered into nothing before her eyes.

"NO!" Pieri screamed, tears streaming down her face. "No, no! NO, PLEASE, NO!"

"Leave it!" Nishiki screamed, shoving her forward with his fox muzzle. She yelped, but ultimately followed his lead as he ran out from the fray. She looked back, and wished she could go and bury it, or at the very least, pick out the offensive arrows from its body. But she could only run away, follow Nishiki obediently because there were spells and arrows and blades slinging above them like a death storm, and the longer she spent there, the more likely she was to reunite with her fallen mount.

Kamui, who was fending off more soldiers, found their height and size effective in taking them down, swiping them off of the roofs in the same way that a person would swipe dirt off of a counter. There were yells and sprays of blood and flying bodies, but they did not care. They could only move thoughtlessly and carelessly, frenzied by the life-threatening situation they were forced in.

It was not until Nishiki shoved them along, as well, did Kamui understand that it was useless to fight the sheer number of poachers. They took one last glance at Mara. The damned woman was laughing and smiling despite the deaths and injuries taking place, even if there were some of her own that fell down lifelessly. It sickened Kamui, and they redirected their gaze forward.

They had no idea what was going on, but there was no time to think. There was only time to run, and they pumped their limbs along mindlessly. They kept running with the others, until they reached the outskirts of the settlement, until the sounds of battle were left behind them. And it was not until Kamui collapsed into the grass, exhausted and reverted back to their human form, did they realize something horrible.

Orochi and Flannel were _not_ with them.

...

Kamui's stomach turned. It was only the three of them, Pieri, Nishiki, and Kamui themselves, that were outside of the village, collapsed in the nearby fields. Orochi and Flannel  were nowhere to be seen, which could only mean one thing. The two of them, in the midst of battle, were separated from the rest, still stuck in the fray and the mass frenzy of Mara's forces. And that situation would not be friendly to either of them.

They looked at Pieri and Nishiki, both physically spent and worn out, but in that shared gaze of helplessness, they seemed to understand the wordless message that Kamui was trying to convey.

Nishiki's eyes widened, the ends of them brimming with tears. He stared at the village they just escaped from, and shook his head. "No, no, no. Kamui, we have to go back. W-We _have_ to go back!" Nishiki stood up, but yelped as he fell down in pain. He did not notice it earlier, probably because of the adrenaline, but he realized there were shards of a weapon embedded in his legs.

It was part of a beast killer, the lances laced with special poison and made with exotic metal, the ones specifically designed to kill things like Nishiki. He screamed in pain, the fragments alone were enough to make his head dizzy and his limbs bleed profusely.

Pieri and Kamui were in no better shape, the knight full of flesh wounds and a dagger or two in her sides, the dragon decorated with cuts and scars, and an arrow that was stuck in one of their arms. They were in no shape to be saving anyone, as they needed to be saved themselves.

"We _have_ to go back." Nishiki repeated.

"And we will." Kamui reassured. "But we have to wait."

"Wait for _what?_ "

"For _who,_ you mean." A new voice spoke out from behind them. Kamui was smiling, but Pieri and Nishiki were worried. They turned around, and were ultimately relieved at what they saw.

A small force, consisting of Cyrus, Joker, Suzukaze, Elise, Sakura, and Leon stood behind them. From the looks of their flushed faces and drawn brows, they had just arrived, and barely on the nick of time, as well. They were a rescue party of sorts, but even with their added numbers, they were altogether still outmatched by Mara's crew. But seeing their presences were enough to give Nishiki some hope that Flannel and Orochi could still be saved.

"Once we heal up and come up with a plan, we'll save the other two." Kamui smiled at Leon, who quickly went to his sibling's side. Their gaze moved along to the other close friends that managed to join together for a last minute rescue. "I told Cyrus and Leon ahead of time to grab anyone else and follow us after an hour or so, just in case things went badly. I'm glad I did."

"Yes," Leon suddenly spoke out, beside Joker as the latter took out a staff to mend Kamui's wounds. "Otherwise, you'd all be dead. Or very close to it, I imagine. We have an idea of who we're dealing with here, but we have to put all the pieces together if we want a strategy that works."

"Yeah!" Elise perked up, clutching a stave in one hand and a roll of bandages in the other. "Things look hopeless now, but together we can get Flannel and Orochi back!"

"I'll scout ahead," Suzukaze said quietly, "and see what we're dealing with. I'll be back soon enough." In the next instant, he seemed to have disappeared, although everyone trusted in him to return safely.

"I was worried about your plan, Kamui." Cyrus admitted, helping along Elise as the two of them fixed up Pieri. Elise did the actual healing, although Cyrus helped with bandages and replaced some of her chipped armor with extras he brought. "But with our combined forces, and our bonds we share, we should be able to overcome this obstacle."

Sakura, naturally, fell to Nishiki's side, muttering profuse apologies as she had to pick out the shards of the broken beast killer from his leg. Each tug felt like a deep spike of fire, and he could not help but yelp in that way that foxes do. He felt relief when the sharp objects were pulled out, but it was not until Sakura used her staffs did he feel the pain subside. She cleaned up the blood, and looked at him earnestly. "W-We can save them, I-I know it." She smiled, and added extra bandages and another round of medicine for safety's sake. "Once we come up with a plan, I-I'll try to help as much as I can! Because i-it's scary, isn't it? When the ones you love are in danger?"

Nishiki vaguely wondered if Sakura was talking about Orochi or Flannel as his 'loved one', but he realized that in this case, they both counted as people he loved, and they were both people that he did not want to lose. He found comfort in her softness, and his usual smile returned to his face.

"It's not just scary," he admitted, "it's _terrifying._ "


	14. N

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the irregular update schedule. I don't really have a set time when I write these, it's whenever I'm in the mood I guess. I can at least promise that it will update at least once a month, however! And fun fact, this chapter alone is nearly 10,000 words long. Whoops.

 

**Nishiki**

n. _brocade ;_ adj. _gorgeous_

( In reference to Fire Emblem Fates: _A youko youth from a remote region of Hoshido. Following his father's footsteps, he held the position of leader of the Youko Hamlet and kept his people in order. If he achieves an S-Support, he will have a daughter named Kinu._ )

* * *

Flannel hated that his first thoughts upon being captured were of Nishiki. Upon capture, his heart beat sporadically whilst his mind dived into an abyss of negativity. There were images in his head, but they were all only scenarios of the youko dying, being captured, or worse, and it angered him that Nishiki was the most prevalent subject of his inner workings. It was unfair, that the fox should cause the wolf so much pain intentionally, only to keep causing him misery _unintentionally_.

He hated that he cared so much, but more importantly he hated that he could do _nothing_ about his situation. It all happened so quickly that Flannel still kept racking his brain for the explanation. He remembered protecting Orochi from Mara's spell, not because he cared about her but because dragging a statue version of her around would be annoying. He remembered running with her, the two of them dashing like frantic blurs in the crowd. It was full of soldiers that were slinging arrows and spells and blades like there was no tomorrow.

Flannel remembered the distinct, spiraling pain of a lance as it burrowed itself into his shoulder. He recalled the biting fire that branded itself into his back, the angry spirits tearing at his arms, and the shurikens and daggers that embedded themselves in his legs. They made him scream out, lash at the flying weapons and even try to scratch at a couple of stray soldiers. He was pretty sure that he tore a mage or two in half because of it, but it did not really matter.

Because Mara's spell was the most bitter of them all, seeing as it tore into his body and strained his muscles. Flannel's form was strong, but the magic that cut into him was stronger. Together with the other injuries he was sustaining, he knew it would not be long before he was subdued.

When the time of giving in came, he could only fall in defeat as his pained screams died down, and feel disparate as his garou form disappeared in a weak veil of light. By then all that was left of him was an extremely bloody and bruised humanoid version of himself. Flannel's ears twitched vapidly and his eyes and fists clenched tightly in pain. Orochi screamed for him, and fell to his side because she could not leave him to his own devices, especially when she already caused him so much trouble.

They were surrounded by Mara's forces in moments, and the moonlight was obscured by the group that towered over them. There was a deafening chorus of shouts and yells, although there were no further stabs or attacks made at them. Orochi was overwhelmed with anxiety, fearing that any sword or spell in the crowd would be the one to end her. Or _worse_ , that Mara would stroll in and casually turn her into some ugly statue.

She focused on Flannel instead, whose blood pooled in his shoulders, back, and legs. He was down on the ground, trying to muffle the sounds of his pain, but he could not stop the low whimpers that escaped his lips. The sounds were more animal than human, and Orochi had to remember that Flannel was a literal wolf. He was a predator turned prey, and the pride and power he normally had was reduced heavily, hindered underneath the veil of blood and pain.

She wanted to stroke him, or maybe tell him things would be alright. But even in pain, he made a point not to be too close to her body, not if he could help it. The diviner swallowed her hesitation, and reached out to touch a spot behind his ears.

His breath hitched, and he stared up at the Hoshidan with glaring eyes. "Don't," he hissed. "Don't touch me."

"Flannel, do you think _now_ is a good time to be stubborn?" Orochi cried out, glancing up at the figures around her. "Is that how you want to go out?"

"Shut up," he grunted, the words nearly incomprehensible between his guttural growls and silencing pain. "Shut up."

"Hey, you two."

Orochi and Flannel looked up in unison, eyes widening at the sight of Mara. The sorcerer was smiling down at them, triumphant in the obvious display of power they exuded over them. Her foreign tome was in her hands, and it glowed with an eerie light. Orochi could not tear her eyes away from it, because it was as if the pages were practically _screaming_ to imprison her in stone.

They remained glowing and unused, however, as Mara had leaned down to meet the two of them head on. "You two have fire in you. That's good. I'm so glad I got _you,_ Flannel." She smiled, and reached out to touch his face with her long nails. He retracted, sneering at the gesture in disgust. She simply laughed.

"You see, I have a preference for garou furs over youko furs. In fact, if it had been your friend here instead of you, I would have just killed him and be done with it."

The thought of Nishiki being dead made Flannel nervous, and he tried not to let it show. But it was hard, trying to balance anger and defiance without succumbing to his sadness and despair. He wanted to be strong, but the idea of Nishiki being speared, killed, and broken made him sick beyond measure.

It made him want to scream.

But he ultimately remained silent as Mara had risen to her feet, tapping her finger along her chin in thought.

"So, I think I'll spare your life for now. Yes, I want to try out a few things before I let you _die_ so wonderfully." She looked to a couple of archers, and nodded. "Tie them up."

Orochi yelped as rough, bowstring-callused hands grabbed her own and restrained them behind her back. The rope was tight and stringent, making her soft skin burn under its reign. They shoved her around, and brought her together with Flannel, who did his best to resist but ultimately gave in when one of the knights stabbed his side with the shorter end of the beast killer lance.

Just a dull stab was enough to send the wolf's mind reeling, and his body arched underneath its animal poison. _No,_ he thought hopelessly, _no no no no._

The humiliation and shame alone were enough to kill the garou, but it only worsened when Mara wretched the beaststone off of his person, confiscating the object along with Orochi's scrolls. She held the stolen weapons in her hands and smiled.

Oh, how she _loved_ the pleading expressions written on their faces, and relished in their tremulous, bodily anxiety. Granted, their bodies were writhing in pain and discomfort, but the sight of it was exciting, nearly satisfying as they were at her complete mercy.

Their fates were in her hands, and it was a good and powerful feeling. Mara laughed again, and took a step back from her captives. In the moonlight, she marveled at the glint of the beaststone, an object that was akin to a jewel. It was usually bright and alive with color, but Flannel's weakened body had made it dim. It was the only way he could physically shift between his forms, as without the stone, he would be stuck in his current and lesser human stance.

Mara knew this, and it was that knowledge alone which made her want to _crush_ the jewel. She dropped it to the ground, and took a beast killer lance from one of the fighters. With a swift, quick movement, she pierced the jewel with the lance, its baneful poison and anti-beast magic allowing it to break through the beaststone's protective coating, and spiral through its core. Flannel nearly screamed as his beloved weapon was shattered into several pieces, the magic within it filtering out into the air and dissipating. Orochi wanted to cover her mouth, but the ropes on her hands would not allow her that. She stared dumbly at the broken stone, mouth hanging agape.

In a single, smooth motion, Flannel was all but rendered helpless. He could still fight in his human form, but without his _real_ form, he would never be able to fend off the numerous enemies. His senses and strength were still greater than a human's by far, but those many humans had him at a loss.

Orochi was no help, either, as without her scrolls the magic in her body could not be formed into anything offensive. The simple hexes or chants she knew would never be enough to take down a foot soldier, let alone an experienced magician like Mara.

Simply put, they were doomed, but the worst part of it was not the hopeless situation. The worst part of it all was that it was _Mara_ who was there, and she was a sick woman who would make them suffer indefinitely. Death was swift when it came, painful for only moments before everything faded, and it would not leave anything behind. But this poacher, alongside her equally twisted subordinates, would elongate the punishment, and break Flannel and Orochi _slowly_.

And that was reason enough to snuff out the fight in Flannel's core. Together with the dread, aches, and pain he felt, it was all too easy to fall to slumber, especially when someone hit him over the head.

...

"There are approximately twenty nine soldiers," Suzukaze relayed, "there used to be fifty of them but the rest of them were killed in battle, presumably."

He returned from his scouting in less than fifteen minutes, much faster than Kamui expected, but not fast enough for Leon's preference. The prince huffed. "That's a lot. We need to take everything in consideration. What else did you notice about them, Suzukaze? Even the smallest detail helps."

"There is a good variety of warriors, both from Nohr and Hoshido." He continued effortlessly, arms at his side. "There are noticeably more magic users and archers than anyone else, however. This is probably due to their leader being a sorcerer."

Leon's expression did not change, but his eyes flickered with the inkling of a scheme. "I see. Their leader is a sorcerer, hmm? Go on."

"Her name is Mara, as I heard one of the foot soldiers address her as so. Apparently, she has a special tome, and I have reason to believe that the spell is what caused those villagers to turn into statues. Additionally, I have caught wind of their plans. They are to meet with others at a point on the opoosite side of this mountain, and they plan to leave in the morning." The ninja took a small pause, and his brows furrowed. "That leaves us less than five hours to act."

Kamui took all this information in at once, but they knew that it was their little brother who had the strategy. They could see it in his eyes, in the way that their red irises darkened, the blacker flecks shifting at once. They could see it in Leon's body, his arms crossing over each other, a hand unconsciously drifting to his face. His brows furrowed, and his foot tapped along to some unknown beat.

In moments, Leon's expression changed, the inkling from before having formed a full idea. He smiled.

"I understand now. No doubt, that woman was responsible for all the mishaps here. She probably captured or killed the remaining villagers, along with the reinforcements we stationed."

"T-They're probably not dead...right?" Kamui asked uneasily, sitting up and testing their injured arms. "I mean, you would have heard about it, Suzukaze, wouldn't you?"

The ninja hesitated. "...I'm not sure. I did overhear that they are keeping some of the villagers in the town hall, the place that's serving as the base of their operations. We can assume that they are all being held hostage there."

"What about Flannel and Orochi?" Leon pressed, not seemingly affected by the somber possibilities of their comrades being dead. Why would he be, when he grew up with death at his doorstep and at his every turn? The thought of others dying fazed him at times, but what surprised him more was how calm he could be in the face of the imminent doom. His serenity showed itself in times like these. The youngest prince of Nohr knew that failing in anyway would not only endanger Flannel and Orochi, but everyone else in their small party, including the youngest Hoshidan princess, Sakura, and his own siblings, Kamui and Elise.

He had to be careful, for their sake above anyone else's. He took a small breath, and repeated himself. "What about Flannel and Orochi? Any news about them?"

"I was not able to listen for long. There were fellow ninja present there, and I had to leave before they saw me. I'm afraid their fates are unknown."

Kamui could not help but look in Nishiki's direction. The fox, along with the other members of the rescue party, were off a ways, patching up and discussing rushed plans of escape. The royal wondered how the youko would have felt had he heard their conversation. Would his expression have fallen again? Would he cry out in protest like before? Would he give up?

 _Probably not,_ Kamui answered themselves. _But I don't want to think that Flannel and Orochi are dead. They can't be._

"They're probably not dead," Leon insisted. "If they were, there would have been _someone_ talking about it. No, I feel like they're prisoners for now. But if we don't save them before they cross into the mountains, there''s no guarantee they'll live. In fact, there's no _probability_ they'll live."

"You're right," Kamui spoke up suddenly. "So, what should we do? I don't think storming in there will work."

"No, it won't." Leon looked towards the others, and beckoned for them to gather. Elise noticed him first, and was bright and bouncy as she summoned the rest of their party, holding Sakura's hand as they raced towards Leon.

"What's up, big brother?" She asked Leon. "Do we have a game plan?"

"You could say that. Is everyone here? Cyrus, Pieri, Nishiki, Joker? Everyone, listen. I have a strategy, but it won't be effective unless we all do our part perfectly." His eyes flickered between the unique figures, seven different pairs of eyes all staring at him with a shared determination. It gave him some reassurance, and he allowed a small smile to cross his face again.

"We need to cause a diversion. The three of you," he motioned to Kamui, Pieri, and Nishiki, "managed to kill about half of them, but their remaining numbers are still too much compared to ours. They outnumber us one to three, and then some. But we don't need numbers for this plan to work. So, we need a distraction, something that will hopefully split their forces."

"Elise, Cyrus, and Pieri, I want you to cause the diversion. Your horses will give the illusion that there's more of you, and if Mara buys into the panic that her subordinates will likely have, then she'll allow some of the soldiers to follow you. Lead them as far from their base as possible."

"Ooh!" Pieri giggled. "That sounds fun! I get to kill? Do we get to kill?"

"Hopefully not," Leon muttered. "No, you can't possibly kill _all_ of those soldiers. Suzukaze, if you could set up some traps for the entrance, then what will happen is that the three of them will lead the enemies out and you can unleash the trap on the opponents as they run out. After that, I want the four of you to go around and escape. If we don't catch up with you within twenty minutes, go back to camp without us."

Elise's face fell, and she clutched onto her rod. "But...But that's it? I feel bad if we're just out here distracting the enemy while you guys go do dirty work."

"Trust me, every part of this plan is full of responsibility. Yours is especially important." He ruffled her hair, and switched his glance to Cyrus and Pieri. "You two, make sure you do your part, as well."

"You have my word," Cyrus insisted, giving a respectful bow. Pieri copied him, but her face was bright and sunny in contrast to Cyrus' stern expression.

"Pieri will be glad if she gets to kill anyone. Because that trap can't kill all of them, right? We can pick off the remaining bad guys that chase after us?"

"The trap can't kill them all, so if it comes down to warding them off in order to protect Elise, do what you must."

"Yay!" She clapped. Leon huffed, and nodded them off in affirmation. He returned his attention to the remaining units, those being Kamui, Nishiki, Sakura, and Joker. He motioned at the Hoshidan princess and the Nohrian butler. "You two, you are to free the villagers and the other prisoners that they've rounded up. I trust that you will do your best to defend Lady Sakura, Joker."

"I shall put my life on it, milord." Joker bowed, voice calm and serious. "If worse comes to worse, I shall have Lady Sakura and the prisoners escape as I hold back the offenders."

"N-No!" Sakura suddenly yelped. "I don't want Joker to get hurt, n-not when you've done so much for us! No, if it c-comes down to it, I want to be there, too!"

"Sakura," Kamui muttered, pressing a hand to hers, "I can't stop you, of course. But please, be careful. Do what you must, but do it _carefully._ "

"Y-Yes," she squeaked, and shifted her gaze, like warm amber sifting in the waters. Those eyes, bright and concerned, found themselves locked onto Joker's mercurial expression, one that wavered slightly under the pressure given to them. She reassured him with a smile. "Let's d-do our best."

"As you wish, milady."

"Then," Nishiki cut in, "what about the three of us, Leon?"

He had half the mind to correct him. _It's Prince Leon to you._ But he remembered that unlike the other common soldiers, Nishiki was indifferent to Leon's royal title, as his own being was that placed on pedestals higher than his. It made the prince bite his tongue, and wonder what had him so demanding in the first place.

After all, it was not _his_ best friend that was in danger. No, Flannel and Orochi were two soldiers that were practically meaningless to Leon, but that did not mean that he was without a heart nor concern. This war was taking its toll on all of them, and there was no need to help push it along by leaving their allies to suffer.

Leon stuffed the indignation in the back of his throat, and redirected his voice. "We will be the offensive force, of course. Kamui and I will take care of as many soldiers as we can, and we'll worry about covering for Joker and Sakura, as well."

"What about me?"

"You," Leon smiled, "have the most significant job. I'm leaving it up to you, Nishiki, because it's important."

The fox's tail swayed in repetitive motions and his ears twitched, hinting at his brewing anxiety. His voice remained even, however, as he spoke. "What do I have to do?"

"Easy, you're going to deal with Mara. Whether or not you want to kill her or capture her is something that _you_ have to decide."

"Really?" Nishiki asked, hesitant. "Isn't that sort of a big deal? You sure you don't just want me to capture her? You have no qualms about me killing her?"

"It is a big deal," Leon answered, "but it's _your_ deal, so I trust you to take care of it. Whether she lives or not is none of my concern, but the rest of us can't face her without the possibility of turning into stone."

"Oh," Nishiki said simply, "right. So, if it's really up to me, then I guess we just have to go in and see."

Kamui broke into the conversation, placing a hand on the youko's shoulder. The simple contact was enough to send a shiver up his spine, and Nishiki blamed it on his shattered nerves and worried mind. All of those negative things were hidden away under the facade of his smile, but it was little touches like those that reminded him how he _really_ felt.

Maybe he could remedy it with a murder. A nice, healthy, vengeful attack on Mara's perpetually smiling face. The thought of it made his lips move, twitching until they formed into a steady, secret smile.

"If that's the case, then I'm ready when you are."

...

Deep in the haze of sleep, Flannel could make out Orochi's voice, cajoling him into being awake. The soft inflections of her tone were inviting, but not powerful enough to pull the garou out of the trenches of slumber. After all, he suffered grievous injuries from only minutes before, and coupled with his deep-set exhaustion and weaponless person, it was all too easy to remain unconscious.

When a sudden sharp smell tugged at his senses, and all but shocked him awake, Flannel gasped for breath. He sat up and pressed a hand to his clammy forehead. His vision swam with flickering spots, which were bright and flashing until they disappeared. When he had his bearings, he realized he was stuck inside a prison cell of sorts, covered in dirt and grime and discarded objects.

It was a treasure trove! He shot his hands out to grab a long, crawly bug in the corner, but was stopped by a pair of sweaty hands. He noticed that they were covered in a smelling salt of sorts, probably the kind that was used to forcibly wake him up.

"Wait a second!"

"Huh?" He turned around, ears perking only to fall again when he remembered that it was _Orochi_ he was stuck with. Of all people to be imprisoned with, she was probably the last one he wanted to see. Flannel's eyes narrowed and his eagerness faded. "Let go of me." He pulled his arm away from her, and leaned cautiously against the wall.

"What's your problem? How can you even stay asleep in a situation like this?" she scolded, eyes narrowing. "Are you still so hurt about before? Do you realize that these moments may be our last?"

"I'm not blind," he reassured, "I know what's going on. Doesn't mean I like you any better."

"You are _so_ insufferable, you know that? I predicted a great misfortune earlier in the week and I think this is it." She groaned, and fell back to her hands. "So, what? You're just going to die and stay perpetually angry at me and Nishiki?"

"That's the plan," he joked dryly, eyes betraying his voice. There was still regret, remorse, and a hint of pity, but they were underlying tones in his bold fury. He could only stifle it so much, because like before, Orochi could practically feel the heat of his anger rise from his surface.

It made her skin crawl and she brought a hand to her chest to slow its quick rising. When it was under control, she continued.

"I understand why you're mad at _me,_ " Orochi admitted, "but what does poor Nishiki have to do with this?"

"He was kissing you!"

"What?" She blinked. "Oh, Gods, are you telling me that all this time, you didn't even know what really _happened?_ What, have you been avoiding Nishiki this entire time?"

"It's none of your business what I've been doing!" Flannel yelled, face reddening in embarrassment. "What does it matter? There's no excuse for what he did."

"You don't even know what really _happened,_ " she repeated, "and what are you saying? 'There's no excuse for what he did'? He's not _yours,_ Flannel! He's not some object to be treasured! He's an actual person, so you shouldn't...!"

" _Don't,_ " he hissed out, posture changing into something hostile. "Don't talk to me like you understand. We're not _people,_ so we're told, so our rules are different! And you say all this, but it's unfair!"

"What's _unfair_ ," Orochi countered, "is the way you treat him! He's the nicest being alive, human or not, and you take advantage of him! You fool, don't you see? Whatever you thought was between me and Nishiki is wrong, and you're making this worse for everyone."

"No, what's really _unfair_ is how you traipsed in and took him from me!" Flannel barked, "I loved him _first."_

Orochi gaped. Flannel did not wait for a witty reply.

"I loved him for a long time, longer than I even knew. And it's not fair that you come in and play with him like he's your pet. I'm a good judge of character, Orochi, and maybe you're not a bad person, but you're no damn saint, either."

"S-Shut up! I don't treat him like that, it's different! He saved me, and isn't that a good enough reason to want to be in his life forever? Isn't that good enough to try and make a foreseeable future, no matter the relationship? I'm willing to just be friends with Nishiki, see, and I'll give him space if that's what he wants, but _you_ are controlling and scary and you can't act like I'm wrong for pointing it out!"

"How is it different? From what I heard, it sounds like you're tryin' to bite your way into his life, forcin' yourself on him. But that's probably not new to you, right?" He smiled, but it was not at all happy or sad or even angry. It just seemed like a hollow expression. "It's humans like you that just _love_ taking stuff from me."

"Oh, for the love of the Gods! I'm not the one that killed your pack members, Flannel. I'm not like those hunters or Mara and many people _aren't_ like that! I'm sorry that there are some bad humans out there, but you can't tell me that every wolf in the mountains is one with a heart of gold!"

"You don't understand! If your parents get killed, people will mourn. When _my_ parents were killed, people celebrated. If your friends were captured or torn apart, people would call it a tragedy. When garous are put on mantles or turned into clothes and rugs, people call it a fashion statement. Don't you get it, you damned idiot?! Humans have taken things from me my whole life. But leave it to a _human_ ," he spat the word out, like it was acid in his mouth, "to take the one thing that really matters to me."

She stared, dumbfounded, shaking with silent anger and tears. She thought of a million comebacks, a million replies, but all of them were buried underneath insignificant thoughts and struggles. Nothing she could have said would have matched the true discrimination and unfairness that Flannel had felt his whole life. Not even her own troubles, her true loved one dying as a martyr queen of war, her parents shunned and eaten by society and divination alike. None of those compared to the thought of having love ones hunted like game, losing friends and family and having to face it as something common.

None of it compared.

"I want him," Flannel admitted, breathless and defeated, on his knees. "I want him because he makes me feel better. He makes me forget why I hate people like you so much. Gods, he's so full of himself but he loves everyone else so much, too. And he's the only one that I can be truthful around, 'cause just talkin' about him makes me admit things I probably wouldn't."

He glanced up at Orochi, and sighed.

"If you can say the same things about him, then maybe I'll hate you less. But I seriously doubt it."

"...I don't have those sort of thoughts about him. But I want him, too, Flannel. I want him because I lose everyone I love, eventually. I've lost Mikoto, my parents, and it'll only be a matter of time before I lose Yuugiri and Kagerou, too. No, Nishiki won't last for me, so that's why I want to be with him, if only for a little while. I know that won't make you hate me less, but I don't care anymore. If we get out alive then you can hate me all you want."

She smiled, and rested her head against the steel bars. A small sound of defeat escaped her lips.

"If we don't survive this," she said, "then I'll make sure to find you and punch you in the face in the next life."

"I'll make sure to avoid you in every life," Flannel retorted, "even this one."

"Ha," Orochi snorted, "ha, you're so clueless, y'know? You're kind of like him in that regard. Both of you have _no_ idea how the world around you really works, right? And you still think that he loves me. You're a silly, silly wolf."

"I'm not," he insisted, "and, and I'm not saying that I'm going to listen to you...but if you two weren't kissing out of love...what _did_ happen that day?"

The Hoshidan thought about it for a moment, vividly recalling the day that she confessed to Nishiki. She remembered the ivory blankets of snow, and the heavy weight of the coat that she had to wear for her own sake. She remembered Nishiki's serene face, his happiness that was akin to a child playing in the wintry fields. She remembered the heat of embarrassment and love surging through her body, the shame and disgust she felt with herself when she forced himself on him.

She remembered the desire she had, and the disappointment that she drowned in when she found that Nishiki did _not_ love her back.

 _I love someone else,_ he had said. And she did not need to guess who his beloved was.

After all, he was sitting right across from her, crumbling apart ungracefully in a dingy prison cell. She laughed at the sheer pettiness of the situation, and gave a bitter response.

"Why don't you ask Nishiki? I'm sure it's his answer that means more to you, especially since you're _not_ going to listen to me." She drew a sigil of magic in the dirt, but lacked the materials needed to make it useful. Her face pulled down in a pout, and she wiped the symbol away.

"But if there's one thing I can promise you, Flannel, it's that once you find out the truth, you'll probably regret things even more than you already do."

...

Elise had felt the excitement of battle before. She was young, tender, and refreshingly naive but she was not spared the cruel reality of war. No, she was in the peak of growth as a child, but lately her world consisted of soldiers and sharp steel, and it was only through her own resolve that she was able to fit hide-and-go-seek and teatimes in between such monstrosities.

Her heart was beating wildly, dancing along to an erratic drumbeat. It reminded her of the Hoshidan dance ceremony they had on Sakura's birthday, and how the music was so foreign yet so _exciting._ She pressed a small hand to her chest, and found herself surprised that she had the same anticipation in her heart as that day.

It was a sign, she figured. Some cool bodily response to the events happening around her. It was a sign that things would go well.

And they _were_ , for the most part. Along with Cyrus, Pieri, and Suzukaze, the four of them situated themselves on the outside of Mara's base, which was the entrance to the town hall building. The ninja had set up caltrops, and together with Cyrus, constructed a quick pitfall trap and more spikes that were meant to assail the unknowing enemy.

The equestrians, thus, had the job of riding through the base, hopefully to give the illusion that there were more forces behind them. The unison sound of hooves hitting the stone should be enough to fool the soldiers into thinking a cavalry had formed, and if they were lucky, Mara would send some soldiers to give chase.

When _that_ happened, Elise had to remember to high tail it, and lead the unsuspecting poachers out into the open, where Suzukaze's traps were sure to hinder them. The thought of fleeing, however, and heading to base camp when the others were still in the village made Elise sad. She wanted to help people, and surely her contribution meant something, but her part in it all still felt so minimal in her eyes.

"I promise you," Cyrus assured her with a sympathetic look, "that our part is very important. If you were to get hurt, then Kamui and Leon would surely never forgive themselves."

"But what _about_ Kamui and Leon? Won't they get hurt? And S-Sakura..." the Nohrian princess felt somber at the thought of her Hoshidan counterpart getting hurt. "W-What if something happens to Sakura?"

"Lady Elise," Suzukaze suddenly spoke up, seemingly out of nowhere, "you and Sakura are alike in so many ways. Such that she will not back down from the opposition easily. Joker is with her, as well, so I doubt she will be in any real danger. Please, only concern yourself with your own job, and do not feel shame in it."

"Because," he continued, "because sometimes it's braver to run away."

...

"Mara!" an archer screamed, "there are cavalry units that broke through the front entrance!"

"What?" she blinked, slamming her Petrify tome closed. "Don't tell me those brats had reinforcements this whole time. What a risky move, allowing themselves to get hurt like that. It matters not, however." The sorcerer stood up, and cast her hand into the air. "Take the other archer units, and get Hikari's group, too. Chase after those horses, don't let them get away!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

The sound of a good amount of soldiers, a dozen or so, filed out of the building and headed towards the main entrance. There was worry tugging at Mara's chest, but she knew that her own forces were very capable, and they would be sure to hold their own against Kamui's soldiers, however formidable they were.

She had no idea that as those archers and spear fighters greeted the outside, they fell into pits or were pierced by spikes, and the confusion and shock of pain had caused them to fall over each other. The poison that laced some of the fallen shuriken allowed them for a slow yet steady end. It helped that Pieri, excited for blood and vengeance, offed any soldiers that escaped the chaos, killing them before they had a chance to follow after them.

All in all, they were effective in almost cutting Mara's remaining forces in half, and Cyrus had deemed their part a success. "Come!" He yelled, "we'll wait by the road. Like Kamui said, if they don't meet up with us in twenty minutes, we're making a break for the castle."

Suzukaze rode with Pieri, and the four of them galloped away from the scene, impressed with their efforts.

Elise took a lasting glance at the town, and prayed quietly.

_Oh Sakura, please be okay. Leon, Kamui, Nishiki, and everyone else...! Please be okay._

_Please._

_..._

Sakura was relieved to find the prisoners. All of the living villagers, along with the reinforcements that Kamui had stationed earlier, were gathered in a holding cell. The rest of the jail was full of the victims-turned-statues, their fearful and dead expressions permanently set in stone.

Her heart sank, but she had no time to ponder over the situation. She nodded at Joker, who broke open the locks with a sharp stab of his daggers. When he managed to pry the cell open, the prisoners sighed in relief, and poured out into the room.

"L-Listen!" Sakura suddenly yelled, and the villagers gawked at the sight of their savior, the youngest princess of Hoshido. Despite her stutter, they were silent and obedient in her authoritative presence. "We are in a bit o-of a pinch, so please cooperate. First, is there anyone here that needs to be healed?"

A few of the prisoners stood forward, laced with wounds and gashes. The princess was quick to work, and told the rest of them to huddle near the back door, the place where she and Joker entered to begin with. In the midst of her work, she heard loud noises, and feared the worst.

"They've found us," Joker said whilst sneering. "I will hold them off, Lady Sakura."

"A-Alright!" she cast her rod around frantically, healing anything she could. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see soldiers running up to her, but the butler was always quicker and cut them down before they had a chance to strike. For the time being, he had everything under control, but she knew that without help, he would eventually be overwhelmed.

"Listen," she yelled again at the prisoners, "f-follow this door and escape! T-To the southern paths are some of my allies, please go with them and run as far away from this place as you can!"

"Thank you," a middle aged lady cried out, "Gods bless you!"

The former prisoners ran out, and some of the soldiers from before (the ones that Kamui assigned to protect the village in the first place) found weapons and nodded. They reassured their princess that they would protect the villagers, and guarded the remaining civilians as they escaped.

Knowing that they could at least save the innocent people was a relief to Sakura. But their job was not done yet, no. She had to make sure that none of the soldiers would catch onto them, and in order to do that, she had to help Joker fend off Mara's forces, and block off the route that the prisoners had used to escape.

"I'm here!" she yelled, pairing up with Joker. She could not help him attack, but she could at least block off stray hits and give him more defensive power. Joker seemed mildly pleased about it, and nodded.

"Stay close, milady! I will get rid of these eyesores!" His dagger, silver and glinting off the dull light, struck hard and deep into the skin of the offenders. He threw more blades at the oncoming enemies, striking down a mage or two that were nothing compared to him.

When an arrow came flying in his direction, Joker cursed and barely dodged the sailing shaft. It got stuck in the wall behind him, and Sakura could not help but squeak.

Archers, and a few snipers, as well had come up to the front of the opposition. Their graceful forms reminded her of Takumi, and she silently wished that her brother were here now. The sneaky dagger and shuriken were weaker compared to the arrow, which always shot true and straight. Joker could only hold them off for so long, and Sakura knew that she had to break apart from him if she wanted to heal him. "Hold on!" She yelled, and backed up as she cast her sun festal rod into the air. Its magic surged into Joker's body, and the slight slouch he was carrying from pain disappeared as he straightened up.

"Thank you," he said, and continued fighting without missing a beat. "I will take care of them, Lady Sakura. Please continue to support me, if you can."

"Y-Yes!" Sakura agreed, shaking in anticipation. She hoped that Leon or Kamui would get to them soon, but she knew that for them to rush in and attack the core would be a difficult process in itself.

But she wanted them to be there nonetheless, and nothing stopped her from praying for their safety.

...

"Do you hear that?" Flannel asked, ears twitching to strain for the sound. "It sounds like they're fightin' outside."

"I don't hear anything," Orochi deadpanned, "your hearing is leagues above mine. But, fighting? Unless they're throwing a mutiny, then it _must_ be Kamui!" She perked up and sat straight. "They've come to save us!"

"Well, what's taking them so long?" He huffed. "They probably don't know that we're in here, do they?"

"Probably not," she agreed, "but why don't we try to break out, again?"

"How? I don't have a beaststone, and you're no good without your scrolls."

Although his statement was true, being called 'no good' made Orochi scowl, and she refrained from lashing out at him. Her energy as minimal and it would be a waste if she were to use it on him, of all people.

"Ah, but _you_ have claws," she pointed to his hands, "why don't you try slashing at the lock?"

He stared at his own hands, and the fingers which elongated into pointed ends, something that differed from the usual human look. With those claws, he could easily cut into skin. He could easily pierce Orochi's pale surface to unearth the ruby underneath, but when it came to metal, he was at a loss. Still, it was better than sitting on their laurels. The garou huffed, and walked up to the front of the cell, where he aimed his slashes at the lock.

The sound of sharp hitting against sharp made loud, squeaky noises that caused Orochi to recoil. A few friction-caused sparks emitted, but the lock seemed otherwise unscathed. Flannel hissed, and slashed again. He aimed for a weaker link in the mechanism, and smiled as it broke off with a delicious _snap._ He glanced at Orochi, and slid the cell door open.

"There we go."

"Now, we have to be careful." She admonished, stepping out into the room with caution. "We're unarmed, and it sounds like a battlegrounds out there. Not to mention that Mara could surprise us at any time. If anything, we should focus on finding Kamui and the others, and avoid any conflict!"

"Yeah, yeah," he said dismissively, "I've got it, I might be torn apart and all beat up, but I can still do some damage." _Which is more than you can say,_ but he kept that thought tucked in a dark corner of his mind.

Orochi seemed content, and walked out with Flannel out of the cell. She stumbled somewhat, the pain from earlier's scuffle still residing within her. _Hopefully this stops,_ she thought, _wouldn't want to have my final battle out there._

They headed towards the end of the hallway, passing by rows of identical cells that seemed mostly empty. When they reached the end of the hall, the cacophony of battle could be heard from the other side of the door. Orochi tensed up, and glanced at Flannel for a sign. His gaze never locked onto hers for very long, however, and he opened the door without any hesitation.

Right before them outside was the frenzy of conflict, the spray of blood and the shouts of death. Many soldiers were scrambled around, and the scene vaguely reminded Flannel of chickens running around in a pen. Better than chickens, though, was the fact that none of them seemed to have noticed that their prisoners have escaped, and there was no sign of Mara anywhere.

The wolf smiled, and walked alongside the shade, hiding in the ebbing darkness and hoping that the battle would keep stealing everyone's attention. Better yet, he hoped to find Kamui or someone of the ilk out there, which would give him a chance to fall back and get rest.

"Over there!" Orochi hissed through her teeth. "Kamui and Prince Leon! They're surrounded, but _Gods,_ they've got a leg up."

"They seem fine," he insisted. "They're pullin' through...!" His excitement peaked again, but it spiraled into something nervous as a familiar scent wafted in the air. It was small and insignificant, nearly lost in the odors of blood and sweat. The only reason why Flannel could detect it was because it was so _familiar._

Like honey and sugar pressed into cotton folds, all with an added touch of fresh grass and incense. It was so becoming, but so sickening at the same time. The scent was very human-esque, and the faint trace of it dialed all of the garou's thoughts into one simple word.

_Nishiki._

Gods, only _Nishiki_ smelled like that. Sometimes Tsubaki or Charlotte had that sweet smell, too, but it was much more tame and far less appealing, even if the amount of cologne that Nishiki put on himself was lethal.

That could only mean that the fox was there, too. He had recovered, and no doubt he was fighting with a vengeance. The thought of it made Flannel's heart race, and he whipped his head around in search of him.

He found him on the rooftop of the largest building. Even if it was some ungodly hour in the morning with a pitch black sky, Flannel could see perfectly. He could see Mara, that wretched woman, standing there on the precipice with a fearful expression on her face. The tome which she used to turn the villagers into stone was clutched between her hands, but several pages slipped due to her careless handling.

Across from her was Nishiki, and even in the heat of the moment he still managed to retain his beauty. There was a look of uncertainty in his eyes, but his body did not seem to betray his thoughts. Considering that he was one of the few individuals that could face Mara without the possibility of being turned to stone, he was doing a good job of scaring her, even if he was still in his human form.

Flannel had half the mind to shout for him, or at the very least go up there and help him, but whatever scheme he cooked up remained unused as he watched the events unfold before him. All in short notice, as well.

Nishiki had the upper hand, and he was about to transform into his true shape, but Mara's quickness surpassed expectations, and she lashed out at him. Not with her tome, but with a spear. Flannel's eyes widened, and he did not hesitate to run out towards the building, yelling as loudly as his human form would let him.

" _STOP!"_

Nishiki glanced for a second, balance and attention divided between his assailant and his confidant, and he was just _too_ slow for the uptake. Mara was holding a spear, a beast killer with no doubt, and she shoved it into Nishiki's body and wedged it in that ambiguous area between his chest and his shoulder blade. He screamed out in pain, and it was like his voice was thunder that roared in the sky. Its volume and agony was loud enough to attract everyone's attention, and all fighting seemed to cease at that moment.

Eyes looked skyward, towards the rooftop, and watched in mixed forms of awe and horror as Nishiki's blood splattered across the tiles, and the bright red spear undulated in his flesh. Mara's expression warped from fear to excitement and back to fear again, a clash of emotions trying to grab hold of her face at the same time. Even Leon and Kamui stopped in mid-fight, their similarly crimson stares widened into shock.

There was a familiar amber glint in Kamui's hand, and Flannel realized then that it was a beaststone. A weapon meant for _him,_ seeing as the dragon had their own special brand of stone. He sneered, and did not think twice about running off, further leaving Orochi's side, and snatching the gem out of Kamui's hand. They yelped, only to find that it was Flannel who stole it, and witnessed his hurried transformation from his sore human form to an even more rustic garou form. His eyes were black and void of emotion, but his teeth were large and white with purpose.

" _I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL KILL YOU!_ "

His threats were guttural and nearly meaningless warble, lost in his savage yells and clamoring blows. He climbed the building like some spider, throwing his weight onto the roof when he was there. The pressure of it caved in some of the structure, but he did not care.

How could Flannel _care?_ After all, he knew what he would find there. He knew that his favorite person up there, skewered and sorry and nothing more than _dead meat._ He knew he would see Mara's damned face again, see her eyes and the way her lips would turn up at the ends to make a broken smile. He might even be up there long enough to see that she had somehow changed into a basara, which would explain her suddenly equal proficiency with a spear. Whatever Flannel saw, he prepared himself for it, and decided that nothing would stop his anger. Nothing _could_ stop his anger now that Nishiki was dead.

Flannel's eyes were black but he was seeing red, and his vision rushed into undecided blurs from pure anger and disbelief. He saw the blood, smelled the perfume, but ultimately could not understand anything better than he could have when he was down there.

Nishiki was hurt, yes; skewered and bleeding and caught off guard. But he was _not_ dead. No, nothing about those bright eyes or glowing form spelled 'death'. Nothing about his fox fires, bright blue and spinning, said that he was dead. Not his smile, his fangs, his youko form.

Or, what _would_ have been his youko form. Flannel knew Nishiki's true form, he was familiar with the vibrant orange fur with red strands sticking out at the end. He knew the glow of scarlet in Nishiki's eyes, and the sleek shortness of his height. Not to mention the fox's body that was built for speed, such that he sometimes moved like a snake or a bolt of lightning instead of the mammal that he was.

The Nishiki in front of him was none of those things, somehow. His fur was purely white, luminous and longer in length than before. The red in his fur was still there, although it was brighter and more pronounced with its contrast against white. His tail had become _tails,_ an additional eight appendages alongside the one he already had. Not to mention that he suddenly seemed bigger and faster, like there was pure energy just radiating off of his body.

And it was. The energy that Flannel could feel was like static in the air, and it made his shorter hairs on his neck stick on end. The fox's grin was toothy, and his dark paws were slathered in blood.

The basara named Mara was lying at Nishiki's feet, seemingly still and otherwise dead. Her body was neatly torn, and the beast killer which had Nishiki's blood on it lay at her feet, snapped in two.

Nishiki laughed, and Flannel felt a chill run up his spine. It was not the warm, sunny laugh that he had grown accustomed to. No, Nishiki's sounds were colder somehow, less friendly than they had been before. Flannel had come up to the roof under the impression that Mara had killed Nishiki, but was greatly surprised to find that the situation had been reversed, instead.

"Nishiki?" His voice reverted to a quieter tone, although the inflection bounced strangely from animal tongues. "You're not...dead?"

" _THAT'S RIGHT,_ " he cried out, voice suddenly spiking in volume. " _MARA'S DEAD, NOT ME._ "

The Hoshidan laughed ( _Gods what a chilling noise_ ), and prowled closer to the edge of the roof so he could overlook the gathering of confused, battle-hurt humans. Leon and Kamui were in the mix, but for the most part, they were just relieved and amazed to know that Nishiki was still alive. Mara's forces, noticing that it was _him_ and not their leader that had emerged, shrunk back in fright.

" _SO QUIETLY SURRENDER NOW,_ " Nishiki advised, ignoring any reactions given towards his outlandish announcement. _"OR DIE._ "

The garou should have known better than to expect any less from a cunning kyuubi no youko ( _Gods,_ he thought, _what a mouthful!_ ) but even _he_ was in shock, so that had to mean something. It was surprising to see the situation turned around so easily, not to mention the new note of authority and power in Nishiki's voice.

Such power showed especially when the soldiers began to throw down arms, when they threw down their weapons in defeat. Although quite a few of them were still not submerged into obedience. One of the mages, who was angry with Mara's death, shouted out a string of curses, and cast a Resire spell in Nishiki's direction.

He smiled, and easily dodged the attack, gracefully leaping from the ledge and landing just as elegantly on his attacker. In a one-two-three motion, he ripped off the mage's head, and spun the dismembered part into the crowd.

Flannel blinked, and watched as the bloodshed continued once more. He saw Orochi running towards Leon and Kamui, the latter two who protected her weaponless form with their easy strikes. He saw them pick off a few rebellious souls here and there, but ultimately they needed not to take part in any of the struggle.

Nishiki had massacred a good lot of them, easily killing those that refused to surrender as quietly as they were ordered to. And they were paying the ultimate price of disobedience, Flannel realized. The _ultimate_ price. And for some reason, this horrible depiction of death and dismay brought a memory up to Flannel's mind, an event from long ago.

That conversation he had with Nishiki, about kindness and prejudice, about illusions and mirages, came flashing back in remembrance. _I'm not called a 'bewitching fox' for nothing,_ Nishiki had said. Flannel did not understand what Nishiki meant at the time, but _now_ he was starting to see the truth.

 _This,_ Flannel thought, _is how he really is. That act of weakness before was just a fake-out._

And he could not genuinely tell if he loved him for better or for worse because of it. Either way, nothing could change the simple fact that Flannel still loved Nishiki, and maybe he loved him even more as he unraveled his enemies like ribbons, giving them the most beautiful but the most gruesome deaths there were.

" _BEAUTIFUL AND DEADLY,_ " Nishiki called out, snickering in between kills. " _BEAUTIFUL AND DEADLY."_

_"JUST LIKE ME."_


	15. O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry this update took over a year to happen, but life hit me like a freight train and I've only had now to recover from it all. While I'm still incredibly busy, I managed to get bit by the Fire Emblem bug long enough to finish this update in waiting. (I had this draft for months now, I think!) 
> 
> So please enjoy the longest chapter by far, totaling over 12,000 words all by itself. There's a lot that happens in this chapter, including some implied sexual content, but nothing that would warrant a rating change. I'm not well-versed in stuff like that, unfortunately~ 
> 
> Without further ado, I thank you all for supporting this fic so far with hits and kudos alike, and I give you chapter "O" of this incredibly long work of mine!

 

**Opia**

n. _the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable._

* * *

There were a million and one questions that Orochi wanted to ask. First, how did Nishiki and the others escape? Second, when did Leon and others arrive? Third, how did Nishiki survive getting impaled? Was it some illusion, or was it an intended injury so he could take them all by surprise? These possibilities swirled in her head, along with the other hundreds of thousands of inquiries Orochi generally had, and she looked towards Nishiki for the answer.

"The heavens have smiled down on you," she said quietly. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks!" Nishiki replied. "I'm glad I'm okay, too. But more importantly, I'm so happy that you're  _alive._ " He stared at her knowingly, and sat upright on his hind legs. The fox fires flickered back and forth, one of them bobbing particularly close to Orochi's head. On any other day, this little display would have interested her, but today her attention was strained. She glanced from the blue flames to the white fox, and awaited painstakingly for an explanation.

"I'm sorry about how I've been acting," Nishiki apologized, flicking his head downward. If she was going to get straight to the point, then so was  _he._  "And about worrying you so much. And I know I haven't really talked to you in a while."

"You haven't spoken to me in almost a  _month_ ," Orochi recalled bitterly, "but I understand. I wouldn't want to talk to me, either, after what I did."

The nine-tailed fox was silent, stretching out his front paws and stifling a yawn. He was so majestic in this newly enhanced form, Orochi could not help but wonder if the transformation had changed Nishiki inwardly, as well. It was as if he had become wiser, brighter, and stronger than before. And his previous state was nothing to sneeze at, either.

At the very least, Nishiki was a lot  _stronger_ now. The murderous parade he put on back at the village was  _terrifying_ , and after a dozen or so deaths, the remaining soldiers quickly gave in, weeping and sobbing over themselves. He was not even physically tough to begin with. It was his speed and agility that allowed his strikes to be so deadly. Coupled with his surprising wit, it was child's play to decimate those soldiers as he did. And like a child, Nishiki was covered in the evidence of his 'play'. The red streaks in his fur melded in with the reds of  _blood_ , and bits of cloth stuck on his paws and the overwhelming scent of meat and death hung over him like a plague. Knowing that, and  _seeing_ that too—it all caused a shiver to climb up Orochi's back.

But, had he  _really_  changed? Was he not the same Nishiki from before? Orochi found her answer when Nishiki moved closer to her, and nuzzled her softly. He had done this sort of thing before, but he seemed to have gained a better sense of grace and elegance since then. His movements were less reckless, and his touch was softer. And as he gazed at her, she could not deny that feeling of innate helplessness rising within her. The anxiety must have shown on her face, because Nishiki did not spare Orochi in the slightest. In spite of her, he laughed, the lilting sound becoming all too familiar in her ears.

"I'm really sorry, Orochi. It was completely unfair to ignore you like that. Forgive me?"

"I hate that about you," she scoffed, pushing playfully against his muzzle. "I hate that you always think that you're to blame. Silly fox, it was never your fault to begin with. You're not the one that needs to be forgiven."

"So is that a  _'yes'_ , then?" The kyuubi no youko smiled widely, and tried his very best to nuzzle the diviner again. "Is it?"

"Oh, fine." She exaggerated. " _Yes_ , I forgive you."

"Thank you!" He cried out. "That's all I wanted, really!"

Orochi stared for a moment, her hand lingering by his ears. That was all he wanted, in all the world? Was he still wanting forgiveness from Flannel, even if the garou was the one in the wrong here? The thought of it made Orochi scowl, and her fingers curled inwards.  _To think that wolf is so naive,_ she thought,  _in assuming that he's the one that's hurting. When really it's..._

"Nishiki," she piped up, "just forget about Flannel for now. If he can't see what a kind person you are, then that's  _his_ fault."

"You're wrong," he denied. "He  _did_ see what a kind person I am. It's  _my_ fault for acting otherwise."

"Nishiki..."

"Anyway, we should get going, or the others will leave without us." His voice was even, and his will o' the wisps were stagnant. She could tell that her words had offended him, somehow. Within seconds, Nishiki's image of white and crimson slipped away, like sand falling through the spaces between Orochi's fingers.

She might not have minded, considering that things would never be the same between them. It hurt, but she could come to accept it. However, she would never be able to accept the rift that had formed between Nishiki and Flannel. Two opposing beings were once joined in a great harmony, but pulled apart again before their eyes. And why? Because of her own selfishness? It was unfair, Orochi decided, that she should suffer the most from her own accidental faults. It was unfair that she was the only one that seemed to want to fix her own mistake, and no one else was willing to understand things the way she did.

Not even Nishiki, who had the brightest eyes of them all, could see clearly in this moment. It was like there were slivers of the burning sun in his irises, but it must have been nighttime in his soul, because they were awfully dim as he walked away.

...

Hours passed. Everyone regrouped at a meeting point, some miles away from the village. The surviving townsfolk and innocents were instructed by Leon and Cyrus to stay away from their homes, and to remain at the refuge camps that Leon had set up until more soldiers could clear the area of any lingering dangers. While some of the civilians seemed indignant at the idea, most of them were accepting of this temporary situation. It was better than getting killed or not having somewhere to stay in the first place.

"It is with deep regret that we must relocate you," he began, "but ultimately, it's for your own safety. Cyrus, you'll take care of them for the time being, won't you?"

The cavalier stood at attention, and gave a proud response. "It would be my honor, sir."

"Good. Then," Leon turned to the crowd of people, and announced, "I promise you will all be in good hands. You will be guarded by some of the greatest soldiers, Nohrian and Hoshidan alike."

Cyrus nodded to this affirmation, and trotted to the front of the group whilst keeping check on all of the villagers. "Follow me! I will make sure that none of your are harmed. I can promise you that."

The villagers nodded, half confident and half dubious, but fully prepared for whatever may come their way. As such, they began the gradual journey to relocation, and the rest of the soldiers watched as Cyrus' graceful shape disappeared into the horizon, with the small band of townspeople following behind him.

"As for the rest of us," Leon addressed, "shall we make way for the castle?"

"We shall!" Elise called out triumphantly. "Oh, wait, Flannel's sleeping." She coughed, and whispered in a smaller voice. " _We shall!_ "

"He's not sleeping," Orochi scoffed, "he fell  _unconscious_  after transforming back into his human form. I'm not surprised, though, he was skewered like an octopus earlier."

The garou in question was indeed unconscious, and he slept in one of the recovery wagons that Kamui had sent for earlier. Joker and Sakura were by his side, tending to his immediate ailments as best as they could. Off to the side from  _them_  was Nishiki, who peeked into the wagon as if it was forbidden, only to scamper away when either of the healers glanced at him.

It was a childish, sorrowful display, and Orochi wanted nothing more than to shake Flannel up and yell in his face.  _You fool, don't you know how much he loves you? Even as you lie near death he only thinks about you._  But none of it would have mattered, not while his sad, defeated body lay at the hands of expert healers. And for that, she supposed she would have to save her sermon for later.

"Either way!" Elise suddenly yelled, "Let's head home now. It's been a long day, hasn't it?"

"You're right," Kamui spoke up. "Yes, it's been hard for everyone. So let's do our best to keep holding on—after all, nothing is more tiring than the way back home!"

Within moments, the remaining forces began the preparation for the road home. Elise and Pieri climbed their horses—the latter which had a new horse since her previous trusty steed was killed in battle. It was obvious that she was displeased, as her face fell at the sight of the new, standard armored horse at her command. Pieri mounted it hesitantly, and when she was on it she sighed longingly whilst stroking its head.

"You should have been there, buddy." She mumbled. "I had to watch my favorite horse get killed right in front of me...I saw his death with my own my eyes...I have his blood on me still..."

Nishiki noticed this and visibly winced—although it was less noticeable in his kyuubi no youko form—out of sympathy. He had been witness to the animal's carnage, and although he killed and hurt many enemies in return, no act of vengeance could bring back the fallen. It was a hard and bitter truth that Nishiki felt for himself. No matter how many humans he defeated, none of their deaths could reverse the deaths of his loved ones. Not a single one. But the righteous vengeance in his blood was the closest feeling to redemption, so he relished in it.

He forgot the momentary worries of the humans, and headed out by himself. Kamui called after him, probably to insist that he rest up on a horse or in the recovery wagon; but he did not listen, and stretched his legs eagerly to show he was running  _just fine_  without it.

And as soon as everyone was ready, Nishiki leaped forward and started running at full speed. He dashed straight towards the brightening horizon, where the sun was waiting for him. He ran and ran and ran, ignoring anyone that dared to even  _attempt_ to follow after him.  _They would be okay,_  he thought,  _they all would_. They did not need him for the time being, so he could go off on his own. He convinced himself of this, and kept running.

The only thing he left behind was dust, and the worsening anxiety that tugged at his mind and ate at his heart.

...

Everyone arrived at the castle by the late afternoon. There, the injured forces were received and attended for immediately. Pieri, Orochi, and Flannel were in worse condition than the others, and so was Nishiki, but he refused any treatment and ran off so no one could tell him otherwise.

Orochi watched him leave, and pined for him. What a sad, tortured person he was behind that smile. Something so small and so insignificant haunted him so earnestly. Orochi felt for him, she really did. But her feelings were set aside as her body needed tending to—after all, she was roughly injured from the fight, and it was not until the healers pointed this out did she  _really_  feel the pain she received. Most of her injuries were magic caused, and those left her insides burning as if they were set aflame. Not to mention the various cuts, gashes, scrapes and bruises that were more commonplace in their time of war, became  _very_  common on her body.

She sat next to Pieri in the infirmary, and even helped the cavalier remedy some of her own lesser wounds.

"How did you do that?" Pieri asked, referring to Orochi's homemade medicine. "It makes the burning stop."

"Just some quick fixes that I made in my spare time," Orochi explained. "I study and make my own medicine, along with my spells. After all, healers can only do so much. There are some medicines I make which are much more effective...but due to their magical qualities, they're harder to get a hold of."

"Uh-huh," Pieri responded halfheartedly. She was still in pain, obviously, but Orochi figured that the death of her steed was hurting her more than the injuries she received. Not having an animal of her own in that sense, Orochi did not know how it felt to lose one. But it could not have been better than losing a stout ally, or a trusted friend.

Thus, Orochi decided to be more sympathetic, and gently pat the flesh of Pieri's shoulder, which was exposed due to having her armor stripped down earlier. The cavalier jumped slightly, and looked at Orochi with a confused expression.

"I'm sorry about your horse," she said softly, "and about everything in general. I know it must have been hard for you, huh?"

"Yeah," Pieri answered, hiding her face from Orochi. There were tears forming in her eyes, no doubt. "I loved that guy, he was so well behaved and always lead me to the perfect spot to kill others...there's no one like him. Pieri knows that he's in a better place, though. One that's way better than ours."

"Probably," Orochi agreed. "Still, you have to move on, you know? When loved ones pass away or are killed...you just have to move on."

"..."

Orochi had more to say, but the healers intervened and interrupted their conversation. They spoke of how Pieri sustained more wounds than they thought, and they would need to give her more treatment.

As for the diviner, they had her lie down and gave her strange medicine that even  _she_ had not seen before. Within minutes, she started feeling its effects, and her eyes became heavy as steel and harder to open. Before she completely passed out, however, she looked towards Pieri who was on the makeshift bed beside her. The Hoshidan reached out and gave a small squeeze to the Nohrian's hand.

"It'll be alright," she affirmed, "we move on from loss whether we like it or not."

"Do we really move on?" Pieri questioned darkly. "Or do we just pretend that we're okay?"

Orochi felt the remnants of her consciousness fading away, but in the last moments of consciousness, she bluntly answered.

"What's the difference?"

...

Days went by since that incident. In that time, the winter had worsened, and the ice was so bad that it froze over entire doors at a time, causing them to have to be broken down or melted with fire magic. The snow piled on massively on the fields castle outskirts, and unlucky lackeys were the ones to clear it. Not to mention that some soldiers would collapse from frostbite or hypothermia in especially bad campaigns. It was nothing too unbearable, however, and after the worst of it, the season became more manageable.

For Orochi, everything was completely unforgivable. The days ticked on and there was  _still_ no reconciliation between Nishiki and Flannel. The latter had fully recovered from grievous injuries since then, but he still ignored the former as if his life depended on it. And Nishiki, being the kind and unreasonable person that he is, accepted this sort of personal exile, and could be constantly seen staring at Flannel from afar, or wandering in the snow aimlessly.

It was sort of pathetic, honestly.

At the very least,  _some things_ changed. Orochi, for example, had reached a new level of mastery. Her spells and magic increased tenfold, and she even changed into new, onmyoji robes that were much more roomier and more regal than her diviner robes were. It was a time for change, and a reward for all the effort she put in during her life. For years, her skills were excellent but never good enough to go past the lonely title of diviner. In the height of the winter, when the first snow storm fell upon them, Orochi found herself stronger than ever, and realized it was all due to her self-evolution.

She was not the only one, either. The Nohrian knights had an honorable ceremony whenever they rose in the ranks, and Pieri was given the title of Paladin by none other than Prince Marx himself. She was bright and boisterous, but obviously humbled and amazed at the experience. She was not only able to become part of an elite force, but she even helped to lead some of the beginner knights and squires in their training, just as Marx had been there to lead  _her_  in her own training days. Together with Lazward, the two of them became known as Marx's unbreakable retainers, whose skills with a blade were hardly outmatched.

And then, the most noticeable of all was Flannel's change. He was more reserved these days, but still found time to look for odd trinkets and strange objects. His strength, one day, randomly increased, and he nearly killed his sparring partner as a result. Then, in the light of the full moon, Flannel howled loudly and in a bright and eccentric display, his shape morphed into something larger, meaner, and stronger. His white fur became red, and his black eyes turned bloody.

He also had a horn that protruded from his forehead, but it was only visible at certain times of the night. As a mánagarm, this was a coveted object, as it was a sign of maturity and power. But to humans and other beings, it could only appear as a silly horn sticking out from his forehead. Luckily, this "silly" horn was not visible to others most of the time, so Flannel could spare himself the insults and jokes.

Yes, even if their relationship remained static, Nishiki and Flannel had changed as people, and as beings. But so did everyone around them. It was a cold, bitter time of year, but such conditions warranted security and power, and those were things that could only be achieved through transitions. In that sense, Orochi was happy that some things were changing around the castle. It signified a hope for the future, one where strife ceases and relationships revive themselves.

 _Maybe,_ she thought,  _just maybe those two will be able to reconcile soon._

_And then I can see their real smiles again._

...

Flannel was livid. He knew it, he felt it; under his skin was a rage so strong that it made his touch burning hot, and his crimson eyes were always narrowed and there was a harsh sneer on his face almost all the time. He could not help it—he could not  _stop_  those instinctual feelings that made him  _hate_ and hold on to that hatred for days on end.

But part of him did not  _want_ to help it, either. After all, despite the near-death experiences, he still retained his anger and confusion from before. There was no fixing his stubbornness, no remedying his self-righteousness. It was annoying, incessant, and hurtful of him to keep acting that way. But he frankly did  _not_  care whether or not he hurt someone in his momentary decisions, nor did he worry about what the others thought of his actions.

At least, he  _pretended_ not to care. Flannel was easy to read sometimes, and there was no denying the pity and regret that showed on his face from time to time. Yet no one brought it up because they all knew the response they would get from him.

And he knew what they would ask him, too. So he was very good at avoiding others when it came down to it. He was a wolf, after all, and part of his life was hiding away and keeping out of sight. Nishiki's scent was practically  _part of him,_  in a sense, so he could always tell when the fox was heading his way. When that happened, the wolf spared nothing and quickly ran off in the opposite direction, or hid off to the side until the other passed him completely.

He did not care for Nishiki's sorrowful looks or gentle eyes. At least, not in the moment he saw them. And he most certainly did not care if  _Orochi_ or someone scolded him for such childish actions, either. He was sick of being preached to, and sick of listening to others prattle on and on about their own morals. He was tired of it, and he was having nothing more of it.

The only person that seemed to be on acceptable terms with Flannel was Pieri, but even  _she_ had her limits when it came to pushing and prodding him with questions or statements. And the cavalier was practically helpless, as each day she watched Flannel avoid major topics of conversation with unabashed haste and carelessness. He would never see it, but Pieri would stare after him longingly, half-saddened and half-amused by his attitude.

 _Gods,_ she thought to herself.  _What a big baby he is._

_What a big, sad baby._

...

It was a late, icy night. The only people out were the soldiers making their usual rounds, and the occasional servant that ran about doing needless errands.

Orochi was no exception. She preferred the warmth of the indoors—she loved the bright light of the fireplace and candles compared to the harsh snow and moon outside. Lit in the corner of her space was various incense, those used to calm the spirits of herself and those around her. In front of her lap were her infamous tarot cards, those with strange drawings on them since Kagerou was the one who crafted them in the first place. But Orochi loved her friend's artwork, no matter how abstract or estranged it may be. This showed itself through her avid fortune telling, which she did often despite the situation of the wars around them. In this cold, wintry world it would be rude not to invite potential clients into her space for the telling.

Tonight, her only client was Nishiki himself. After all, he was arguably one of her closer friends, and his gullible naivety amused her to no end, despite whatever serious situation they were in. It was enjoyable to see his awed expression and unknowing stare. Even if he was more mythical and more magical than all of the cards combined, Nishiki acted as if the tarot was unlike anything he had ever seen in his years of living.

His endless, endless years. Orochi never asked how old he actually was before, but she figured that the answer would stupefy her either way. She smiled, and cracked her knuckles in the process.

"So, what did you think of it all?"

"Amazing! You know so much about the future, huh?" Nishiki cheered, and stared down at the overturn cards and the fading candles. "I'm actually a little shocked too, to be honest. I've never had my fortune told, so I had no idea what to expect."

"Ha, no one ever does. I do it the right way, too. There are many fakes and frauds out there, but my techniques are as divine as the Gods. Even if the artwork is a little questionable, everything I predict usually comes true." She giggled, and started collecting the cards again. "Are you interested in more? Or are you too scared of the predestined?"

"I'm not scared," Nishiki insisted, his tails swinging out in rhythmic lulls behind him. "Just sort of concerned, but not scared at all. What else do you have?"

"Well, this is a personal method of mine," she explained, whilst replacing her tarot cards with colored marbles. They were bright and vivid in variety, and Nishiki marveled at their beauty.

"These beads represent emotions and the outcomes of those things," she said. "I'm going to put them in a bag and you'll choose one."

"That's just random, though." He pointed out. "It's not fortune telling."

"Yes it is," Orochi retorted. "People say that the tarot cards are shuffled randomly. But they're not, whatever happens as an outcome all depends on the chooser. It's all on  _you_ , Nishiki."

"Well in that case," he mused, "let's do it."

The onmyoji put the marbles in a silk pouch, and did not bother shaking it at all. She simply offered it to Nishiki, and he did not hesitate to reach in and grab a marble. The one that came out was pink, opulent, and round in his hand. He gawked at it for a few seconds, and looked to Orochi for an explanation.

"Pink represents kindness," she explained. "It is connected to red so it also means 'love'."

"Okay, so what does it mean that I got a pink marble, then?"

"There are many pink marbles," she said, "the fact that you got a round one is good. It means things will run smoothly. Although the size of the marble is sort of small-this means that the good fortune you'll have in kindness or love will be short-lived. It won't last long."

"Oh," he sighed, "I didn't need a fortune telling to know  _that._ Nothing lasts long in this world, y'know."

"Some things do," Orochi rebutted. "Love lasts especially long. It outlives people, even. So the fact that your love is short lived is sort of pitiful, honestly."

The fox frowned, and his amber eyes seemed to narrow ever so slightly. Such a negative outcome was not what he expected, nor wanted. "Can I do anything about it?"

"Well, let's find out." She smiled. "Pick another."

Nishiki reached in, and quickly pulled out another small object. This time, the marble was not really a marble, and appeared to be more like a chipped rock or a broken slate. It was a dark green-yellow and black color, one that was vile just in appearance. He stared at it, trying to mask the disappointment that wanted to form on his face.

 _Well,_ he thought.  _That can't be good._

"Oh," Orochi merely said, whilst observing the object with her own eyes. "This isn't looking good."

"What d'you mean?"

"This," she said, "signifies  _difficulty._ Obstacles, if you will. Something bad will happen."

"Huh. Will it happen soon?"

"Since this is small...probably. And this is related to your last fortune, so whatever short-lived love or kindness you find will be followed by tragedy."

"That's great," Nishiki said sarcastically. "I'll keep that in mind. Anything else?"

"Well..." she stared at the color of the object in question. "The yellowish shade usually represents sickness. So in that case, maybe injury or a flu or something like that will happen. For a human that's pretty worrying, but you're not exactly human, are you?"

Nishiki smiled, an expression that was absent from his face for the entire time this misfortune was read to him. "Then I'll be fine. Thanks, Orochi."

"Don't thank me yet," she implored. "Pull one last marble out."

Nishiki was obedient, and did just what Orochi asked him to. And from the pouch, he proffered a third marble from his hand. It was white, round, and large. He glanced at Orochi, who was beaming.

"You're in luck," she said. "Whatever tragedy you run into will be remedied eventually, and you'll live a pretty good life after that initial setback. Yes, this looks like a mostly good future with one big hiccup in the road."

"Great!" he exclaimed, and ogled the pretty thing in his hand. "That's what I like to hear. Thanks, Orochi." he repeated his gratitude, and handed her back all the marbles he took.

She put them back inside the silk, and placed all of her divining tools off to the side. With a nervous sigh, she spoke out: "You're welcome, Nishiki. It's the least I could do."

...

"You're acting like a child." Pieri complained, staring Flannel dead in the eye. "You know that, too."

"No, I don't." He said sharply, returning her determined stare with a vicious glare. "I thought I said I didn't want to talk about it."

"I would have talked about it whether or not you wanted me too," Pieri declared. "Don't avoid it."

The two of them were on usually good terms, but this was not the first of their little fights they had. Pieri remembered something like this happening weeks ago, where she and Flannel clashed on the idea of personal thoughts and morals, which lead to an argument that lead to distance forming between them. It was simply a repeat of their scuffle long ago, but this time she sought to end it differently. This time, Pieri wanted  _answers._

And these days, Pieri was arguably Flannel's only friend, especially considering that he pushed away everyone else. While he was never close to other soldiers to begin with, he avoided Nishiki altogether, and his act of doing so must be the reason for tonight's disagreement. Knowing this, the wolf sighed, and crossed his arms quickly.

"What are you talking about, now?"

"You know what I'm talking about," Pieri said. "Pieri is not blind."

"Obviously not," Flannel hissed back. "But you sure are  _nosy._ "

"Hmph. At least I'm not a  _child,_ " Pieri barked, "one that doesn't know how to forgive someone."

"I'm pretty sure that's  _exactly_ what you are," Flannel asserted, "you don't know how to forgive someone, either! You kill anyone that angers you!"

"Shut up! Or I'll kill you!" she threatened, not realizing that she was proving his point right then and there. It was just as Flannel said, however. He was right in the sense that Pieri was short tempered. Her fragmented mind and heart did not allow for forgiveness or rationality. She truly did think that simply murdering someone or beating them up was better than confronting them. In that sense, she might have been hypocritical for calling Flannel out on this manner, one that she was no better at handling herself. But she did not care.

They were both similar in that regard, such that they did not care too much about the others around them. How could they, when their families and lives had been endangered since youth? They had to watch time and time again, people die in front of them, and others ignore them as they were outcasts in a world full of normality. Where Flannel was born into monstrosity, Pieri was raised into it; she was raised to become someone that was emotionally and mentally unstable and disconnected with others around them. Despite being a part of the human world, she was neither less nor more humane than the beast in front of her.

And that beast knew this very well. But he was loathe to admit it.

"You just proved my point," he said to her, "you don't think twice about anything. So why're you lecturing me about something you don't even do yourself?"

"Shut it!" Pieri repeated, her eyes staring into his like acid. It was invasive, that stare of hers, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other nervously.

 _Gods,_ he thought,  _shame on me for inviting her to see my collection. She's not even interested in it. Heck, she just wanted to be in my room to argue with me!_

These thoughts only helped to fuel his anger, and he continued in such a state.

"If you're going to yell at me, then just  _leave_. Here I was, thinkin' you'd like to take a look at my stuff, but instead you're gonna beg me to speak to Nishiki again."

"That's where you're wrong, Flannel." Pieri said, voice peaking in anger. "I'm not begging you to speak to him. I'm  _telling_ you to. You're so cruel, y'know? Cutting out someone from your life for no good reason. Pieri at least makes sure that she has a reason to do something before she does it," she huffed, tapping the length of her arms irritably. "You just go off and do anything you want, huh?"

"You can't tell me to do  _anything,_ " Flannel rebutted once more. "I can do whatever the hell I want. And you're messin' with me, again. Pieri, I don't care what anyone says. I ain't forgiving Nishiki."

"Why not? Did he do something wrong?" She argued. "He's allowed to do what he wants, right? So who cares if he and Orochi made out, or had sex, or-"

" _Pieri!_ " Flannel cut her off, half-embarrassed and half-angered by what she said. "What the  _hell_ are you talking about? He didn't do  _that_ with Orochi!"

"Even if he  _did_ ," Pieri cut in quickly, sparing no nonsense for Flannel, "you're not one to judge. He can take care of himself. He's an  _adult._  You don't own him, damn you!"

"You're starting sound like Orochi, too!" Flannel exclaimed, and turned his gaze away from her in an act of disgust. "Gods, what do you damned humans want from me? I know he isn't a piece of meat." he sounded exasperated, but how many times did he have to explain this? Maybe this was the first time he was saying it aloud, but it went unsaid that he knew the code of conduct between two individuals in love. He knew how to act properly around Nishiki, especially.

"Then why don't you act like it?" She snapped. "Why do you act so offended by anything he does that you don't agree with? Do you realize you hate him for no reason at all? I heard myself that it was an  _accident._ "

"What?" He blinked. "W-Well, accident or not, I..."

"Oh, Gods." She stopped short of herself. "You never knew it was an  _accident?_ That he kissed her on  _accident?_ Gods."

"I never asked," he said simply. "B-But that doesn't make it better that he-"

"You're disgusting," Pieri called out insultingly. "You literally ignored him and hurt him this whole time for  _no_ reason. You didn't even  _talk_ to him about it?"

"It wouldn't have mattered if I did!"

"And why not?"

He searched desperately for words that were witty enough and quick enough to come back at hers. But it did not matter. He knew he was at a loss. It even astounded him, in hindsight, to have been so bitter as he was. His pride, however, was at stake, and even if it meant straight up  _lying_ at this point, he would do all that and more to protect what dignity he had left.

To think that dignity was being stripped bare by a human—no less—was more than humiliating.

"B-Because," he stammered out, and cursed at himself mentally for such a misstep, "because...no matter what, I knew I couldn't change anything. I hurt him and I would never forgive myself for that," Flannel sighed, finally.

"Don't you get it?" Flannel said. "It's not him that's getting the worst of it."

With a defeated look, he turned away from Pieri completely.

"It's  _me_."

...

Orochi and Nishiki were having the time of their lives. After the former's fortune telling of the latter, they decided to remain in Orochi's domain, and spent hours just talking and dawdling the minutes away. They spoke more about themselves, their pasts, and the world around them. Their first topic ended up being about their families. Orochi recalled her parents, and Nishiki did the same to his.

"They were onmyojis like you, huh?" Nishiki wondered aloud, lying down on his back and letting Orochi rest her head on his stomach. She simply nodded, and spoke softly as she was on him.

"Yes, they were court diviners that got promoted at some point. They served Mikoto and her family for years," she explained. "I grew up with the late queen, if you can imagine it."

"I can imagine it," Nishiki assured. "Wow, you don't look that  _old_ , though."

"Thanks," she said sarcastically. "Don't you know it's rude to guess at a woman's age?"

"I'm not guessing," the fox teased, "but if I  _were_ to guess, I'd say you're late twenties, at least."

"And I'd say _damn you,_  you sly fox." She smiled playfully at him, lifting up her head from his abdomen to properly look him in the eye. "What about you, oh-mystical-kyuubi-no-youko? What about  _your_  parents?"

"Well, mine were foxes just like me." He reminisced, and matched Orochi's grin with his own. "My dad was the chief of our tribe. Our family had been in charge for generations."

"Amazing," Orochi muttered under her breath, but her close proximity to Nishiki allowed him to hear it, anyway. He smiled proudly in response.

"It is, isn't it? Anyway, we were big shots in the tribe. My mom loved to spoil me," he recalled this part rather fondly. "She taught me everything there is to know about grooming and beauty."

"Haha, I can see it now. A woman, whose appearance was unmatched, spending day and night with her son who would grow up to be a narcissistic  _fiend._ "

" _Ha,_ " Nishiki rebutted with a joking laugh, "Ha, ha, ha. I'm not a fiend, Orochi."

"Well, you're narcissistic." She added. "Your parents sound great, though."

"They were pretty awesome." Nishiki agreed. The human kept note of the fox's use of the past tense when referring to his parents. Knowing that Nishiki was the leader of the clan now, Orochi could easily imagine what had happened to his parents.

Considering that they were just as loving and arrogant as Nishiki, had they been alive, then Orochi would have faced them head on back at the mountains. Their escapade in the hidden village of foxes would incite the so-called leaders of the tribe—the parents to Nishiki himself—had there been any. But there were no parents to speak of when they arrived at Nishiki's home. There were elders and cousins, but no one directly came and said that they were Nishiki's immediate family. There were no siblings nor parents that made themselves known—something that would be  _impossible_  had they been alive.

Orochi gulped. Their fates could not have been good, especially since their kind was commonly hunted and disrespected by humans alike. She felt a rush of anxiety, and she knew that Nishiki sensed it, too.

They were so close to each other, it was impossible not to tell how they were feeling. Orochi felt the heat of embarrassment and shame rise through her body, and she knew that the fox's senses would pick up on the slightest of changes. It showed in his eyes, which glanced quickly from Orochi's reddening skin to the pitiful look on her face. They were dual pools of amber and gold—brown and earth—that reflected a soul that was young and old in one turn. In his eyes, Orochi could see the widening pupils, the rings of light and specks that were beautiful and unattainable all at once.

They were so close that Orochi could feel her warmth being lost in Nishiki's warmth, as his form was just so near and dear to her own that she wanted to squeal. In those few seconds, Orochi felt like Nishiki knew all there is to know about her.

And maybe he did. He spoke with such clarity that the sudden sound of his voice caused her to jolt, jump forth slightly and recoil back in humiliation.

"You're wondering what happened to them, huh?"

"Probably the same thing that happened to mine," she said impulsively, " _death_."

Nishiki was still for a moment, and sat up as he stretched his arms. His tails instinctively curled around him, and his body was lost in a sea of white and red. He stroked his own fur for a minute or two, thinking about how he should properly respond to her. When he was done, his tails unfurled, and lay in neat clumps behind his figure.

"That's true," Nishiki said, "but I have a feeling the circumstances of their deaths were different."

"You're right about that," Orochi agreed. "I didn't mean to say that your parents and my parents suffered the same tragedies. But we both know that good people don't last long in this world."

"Yes, I know that. But my parents...I lost them a while ago. Of course, a fox's memory never fails them. I can never forget about them, even if I wanted to. I still recall every little detail. Even down to my mother's beauty mark, which she had right  _here._ " He reached forward, and gently poked the bridge of Orochi's nose. She blinked at him, although his soft fingers retracted quickly from her face before she could make anything more out of it.

"I wish I had that sort of memory," Orochi admitted. "I'm not getting old or anything, but from time to time I forget little things like that. If my mother had beauty marks, if my father had a scar on his arm or not...I get all the memories mixed up." Her smile was incomplete somehow, but she showed it to Nishiki anyway. "Then you must clearly remember all the sad parts, too."

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I remember everything. I could never forget anything. But the most memorable part was their death." He looked a little somber, but it was not anything that Orochi had not seen before. There were times where the sun disappeared behind dark clouds, just as there were times were happiness fell behind sadness. Even Nishiki, for all his brightness and positivity, could not avoid the harsh grip of melancholy for long. It was evident in the way that his ears drooped a little, and a small furrow in his brows appeared.

"I don't like going into detail, but I was really young when they died. So once they passed, I basically raised myself along with the village elders."

"Oh..."

"A lot of what I learned is from them, and from my mistakes." He smiled dryly. "I learned to distrust humans because of them."

"Nishiki, you...you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to..."

"It's okay, I  _want_ to talk about it. It's just, when I look back at it, my parents were killed by humans. But they wouldn't have been if I didn't make such silly mistakes in the first place. And because of that, and the clan's wariness, I just learned to never trust humans again."

"But you trust us  _now_ , right?" She looked at him with a careful expression. "At least, you trust me? O-Or Kamui or someone else..."

"Yeah, it's  _way_ different now." He reassured her. "I mean, if it wasn't, I probably wouldn't have stayed as long as I have."

"Probably. There's no way to tell, except I have a feeling that it was destiny for you to be here."

Nishiki laughed, the whites of his teeth gleaming in the fire light. "Maybe it is! You would know much more about destiny than I do, Orochi."

"That's true," she said. "You know, I was even thinking about something earlier. I was thinking about the universe and how things happened. Our experiences shape us, don't they? All these things happened for a reason."

"Hmm~" he hummed in response, closing his eyes gently as the flickering light of the flames cast shadows over him. "You're right about that. At least, everything up to now has been happening for a reason. Every little thing."

"Yes," Orochi agreed, "so what I mean to say is, I'm glad you're here with me, Nishiki. Even though there's been some things that I regret...I wouldn't take any of it back at all." A wry smile laced itself across her face, and she did not know if she liked it or not. "Because everything you've been through has brought you here to Kamui's army. It's brought you here to  _me."_

He blinked his eyes open rather slowly. Those autumnal irises were in season again, the leaves of his eyes falling down in a slow stupor. Confusion, mystery, bewilderment—all of this and more circled in those lovely hues, and Orochi felt happy and sad to see such a display. But was Nishiki offended by her words? Did he know what she was getting at?

He did not show it if he did. "Do you think so?" His voice was sedate, smoothly riding the warmth of the currents hanging in the air. "That's arrogant of you, Orochi. I don't think my parents died just so I could meet you."

"That's not what I meant," she coolly retorted, "not at all. I was only wanting to say that all of these tragedies aside...it's not so bad if it means we got to meet in the end."

"..." He stared at her strangely, and grinned softly after he formed the thought in his mind. "You're very strange, Orochi. You're almost cute when you do that, too. You're always trying to cheer me up." Nishiki noted this, not breaking eye contact in the least. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted, "but I think it's the fact that I still love you." The woman sat up and removed herself from Nishiki's lap at once. There was a deep adoration in her eyes, and she poured it all into his wondrous gaze. "I know it's silly. I know it's what caused all this trouble in the first place. But I can't help it."

"Orochi—"

"—Are you mad at me?" She wondered aloud, voice softening to a near mute. "Do you hate me for that?"

"Of course not." He reassured her like always. "I don't hate you at all. I really don't understand you sometimes, but I could never hate you."

"Do you mean that? Do you really mean that, Nishiki? I know you've suffered too, but I couldn't stand it if I lost another person that I loved. Please don't lie to me. Tell me if I've said something bad."

"But you haven't, Orochi. It's okay. I...I've known that for a while now," he reminded her, "and I know better than anyone that feelings don't just fade away easily. So it's fine, okay? It's really fine."

There was a silence hung over them again, and despite the warm fire nearby Orochi felt as if they were out in the snow again. It was just like that day, where she sauntered up to him out of juvenile affection and desire. At that time she faltered, and did not know what she truly wanted out of it all. But certainly, she was a grown woman and not a fledgling girl anymore. If there was something that she wanted, she would have to say it—there was no telepathy between people, and there was certainly no way for the fox in front of her to catch onto her heart's signals.

She had to make a move first.

But Nishiki sensed this to begin with, and he did not want to be caught up in the turmoil that would follow. He gracefully rose to his feet, and gave a lasting look at the onmyoji before turning his back on her. He wanted to leave right away; he wanted to go before he lost all his senses to her charming gaze. Nishiki stepped forward, eyes aimed for the exit and heart thrumming against his chest.

 _He had to leave_.

Yet he was too slow for once in his life, for he felt a delicate hand grasp his wrist with a gentle force. He did not stagger, but simply paused in his step as his breath hitched in his throat. Turning around slowly, he dreaded to find what he imagined he would.

And he was right; before him was Orochi, down on her knees, staring up at him with the most innocuous expression possible. Wide eyes of violet, long lashed and pretty, entranced in his direction without so much of a protest. And then her mouth—brightly pink lips that were curved and parted—let sparse breaths of anxiety and romance escape in full. Her arm shook with hesitation, but still held on tightly to him, despite faltering in every way possible.

She was so stunning in that singular moment, Nishiki felt his heart speed up in delight. Why was he feeling this way? He knew that his love was open and receptive to everyone—there ought to be no boundaries in his mind, especially  _gender_ boundaries—but he wanted to initially save it for Flannel. He wanted to fix things with Flannel, who had become his best friend before anything else. And once they reconciled, he imagined that at some night in the faraway future, they would keep each other warm on a cold night like this.

Yet here was Orochi, saying that he ought to keep his heat stored for her before anyone else. Here she was, exposing her heart to him in hopes that her body could do the same shortly thereafter. Here was Orochi that—despite not saying anything in that moment—was telling him everything and anything with a singular look in her amethyst eyes.

The fire nearby was warm and the outside was far too cold in comparison. Flannel was just as cruel as the ice that collected out there, and no doubt seeing Nishiki's face in the dead of night would not be the most pleasant thing. The fox thought sadly about the wolf, who still refused to see him in every way possible. Would his indignantly burning eyes be worth the long trek to his quarters in the first place? Would the curt words of admonishment and hatred be worth it for a few words of friendliness mustered out in the end? Would it even matter?

"Nishiki," Orochi pleaded in a low voice, interrupting his thoughts on the matter, "please don't go."

"Orochi," Nishiki echoed her name at her in a voice warning of dangers to come, "I have to. I shouldn't stay here."

"Why not?" Her breath was barely above a whisper, but he could still hear her clearly. "It's cold outside. Stay with me."

"You know why," He reminded her in the gentlest of voices, but was not as convincing as had been before. "If I stay with you, then—"

"—Then you'll keep me warm. And I'm so, so cold, Nishiki. Please."

"..."

"Please."

"Orochi—"

"— _Please._ "

"...If you're sure, then..." Nishiki reached down on his knees to get to her level, and wrapped his lean arms around her neck. Then he pulled himself closer to her, so his skin could feel hers heating up out of embarrassment more than anything.

But he would comfort her lovingly all the same, in every way he knew how. "You're actually warm," he hummed into the air, hands gently reaching behind her to untie the ribbons of her robes. They fell down softly, causing the rest of her clothes to slide down the smooth curves of her skin. She was exposed for a singular moment, and she squeaked out bashfully.

This was nothing new to either of them, but Orochi's heart lit ablaze like a naive girl playing around for her first time. Nishiki had this effect on her since the beginning—he was the only one who could ever break down her walls without so much as a kick from his end. All he needed was his airy breath, gleaming eyes, and warm smile to send her tumbling.

And tumble she did, with a deep chill running over her spine as Nishiki gently pushed her forward, so her back met the cool surface of the floor. Her hair fanned out like lavender petals behind her, and her arms remained at her side in the most obedient of ways. The silken robes could no longer hold themselves on the frame of her body, and they seemed to betray her as they crumpled around her nakedness in a similar fashion. Despite this, Nishiki only ever kept his gaze locked with hers, not even batting an eyelash when Orochi did the same ritual unto him—undoing the knots on his  _haori,_ removing the ties that bound his arm guards together to his sides.

"Are you sure you want to keep going?" He asked her kindly. He never wanted to be mean to her, but he just wanted to make sure that this was what she  _truly_ wanted—and that her decision to ignite this heat in the first place was made consciously, not out of fear or pressure.

She knew this, though. This was something that she mastered inside and out. Her own feelings confused her, but the motivations behind them have been mostly clear up to this point. Her heart and head fought each other often, but in this instance in time they agreed swimmingly.

"Yes," she answered, "this will be the first and last time, Nishiki. I want you to know how much I love you, now more than ever." She raised a hand upward to meet his face, gently caressing the sides of his cheeks. They were surprisingly cool, despite the adjacent fireplace and the situation they were in. Maybe he was a man of passion in his heart and mind only—maybe his body was cruelly cold in times like this. She did not mind it either way, but it amused her to know that  _she_ might end up being the one to warm  _him_ tonight.

He smiled, and closed his eyes as she stroked his face. Then he laughed as she fumbled with the rest of his clothes, only to be successful a minute or so slower than he was. They fell down in their entirety, revealing him in all of his natural beauty. The garments were all kicked to the side, and despite the initial opportunity to do so, her eyes were locked on his eyes only—their gaze becoming like twilight as orange met purple in a gorgeous, complementary gradient. There was a lightheartedness to it all, and Orochi was oh-so thankful for it, because otherwise she might have died of sheer anxiety alone.

Her heartbeat had become extreme in such a short time. And it only quickened its pace exponentially as—in the midst of the glowing fire and lulling night—Nishiki went down on her, dissipating her fears, worries, and nightmares in one fell swoop.

...

"You're such a fool," Pieri scorned, "you're a self-pitying, big-baby of a fool!" She disregarded everything they argued about up until this point. Seeing Flannel's own oblivion in such a personal confrontation was staggering, and Pieri would not stand for it. "You should go apologize to Nishiki  _right now."_

"No," he answered her. "I won't."

"And why not?"

"To  _spite_ you." He spat at her, bloody eyes burning with the heat of injustice. "You think you're so high and mighty, don't you? Just because you pointed out a few of my mistakes doesn't make you any better! Actually, I think it made you  _worse._ "

"How dare you!" Pieri screamed, and was lucky that they were in Flannel's quarters and that no one else could hear them. Otherwise they might have just been interrupted by some interloper now. "How dare you! Why're you so mean to me? What did Pieri ever do to you?"

"That's a long fucking list of things I gotta recite," he chided, sharpening his words down into bare insults when he could. "Where do you want me to start? How about when you followed me to my home even when I told you not to? Or when you yelled at me for pretending to be something I'm not? Or for lying to me about wanting to see my collection? Or—"

"—That's nothing!" She cried out. "All of that is  _nothing!_ You pretended that you didn't like any of the stuff we did when you actually liked it! You always bark about how people are bothering you, yet you cry about being  _lonely?_ Gods damn you, Flannel. Gods damn you!"

Her eyes were alight, and with each erratic movement her hair swayed and he could see her hidden eye. Red for fire, green for acid, and both were scalding him with all their might. She would not let up, even if it meant bearing more of his angry, verbal attacks. Although she did not know when he would break out into violence soon—she did not know when his lean arms would start twitching and then break their restraint, only to reach out for her neck afterward.

But until that happened, she would press on about the matters at hand. The two of them were broken, battered monsters in the heat of war—the least they could do was pick up each other's pieces along the way.

"Curse me all you like! Humans like you have done  _worse_ before," he snapped, "so why should some words be any different? I don't care what you say! I pretended to be okay with it because I didn't have a choice! You guys do whatever you want in the world, but not everyone has a chance like that. Wolves like me don't  _have_ a choice." Body bristling with a whirlwind of anger, lightning sparking his blood and making it buzz through his hollow veins—he wondered just how much more he could take of this. How much more would he tolerate until he attacked the paladin in front of him out of sheer rage?

"Then why don't you try to make it  _different?_ " Pieri retorted. "Why don't you  _fight_ for that choice? You joined this army, didn't you? Why don't  _you_ change first? Or do you want to live the rest of your long life like this, hating humans until the day you die?" She blanched at her own words, and took a step back through her own fury. "Will you hate  _me_ until I die? Orochi, too? Maybe even Kamui and their siblings! Maybe even Prince Leon and Prince Marx and—"

"—Stop it," he warned her, "that's not fair. It's different when it comes to you guys. I've grown used to you, and I don't  _want_ to hate you, but you're the one bringing on the hatred. You're the one that's—"

"—I'm not doing anything that I wouldn't have to do in the first place if you just  _listened!_ I care about you, Flannel! Don't you see that? Don't you see how Pieri is doing everything she can so you're not babbling and crying like a little kid? Don't you see the effort she's putting in?" A thoughtful pause in her long string of words appeared, and then she continued on with renewed energy. "You know the others talk mean about you? You know they say that you're a fool for not trusting in Kamui? You know they even think you're going to  _betray_ us all?"

"You can't be serious—"

"—Yes, that's right. They say all sorts of mean things. But  _Pieri_ is the one that tells them otherwise. Pieri goes to Kamui, and she goes to everyone to convince them that you're not so bad! And you're not, beyond your ugly flaws. You're not bad at all, Flannel! And it's because they don't know you like I do. But I know you, I'm sure of it, and so I do those things for you."

"I never asked you to do that," Flannel protested, "I never asked for your help. I'm not weak, I don't need you to protect me!"

"I think you do," Pieri countered, "I think you really do  _need_ me. We need each other. We're no good when we're not thinking of blood and guts, Flannel." A sad smile formed on her face, and she laughed in spite of them all. "So you need me! I need you! Stop pretending otherwise!"

"I don't need anyone. I especially don't need  _you._ " He wanted the words to hurt. He wanted her to leave him already, and never come back. But she saw through his ploy and kept smiling. He kept going for the sake of them. "I don't need you, Pieri. Just go away already."

"I won't."

"You  _will._ "

"Oh, yeah?" She asked dangerously, voice lilting in a mad, teasing manner. "Then  _make me._ "

He stepped forward, arms stretched out with claws glinting dangerously at their ends. Pieri's gaze flickered from their sharp edges, but then remained affixed to Flannel's livid expression. She did not move.

"You'll wish you didn't say that, Pieri."

"Why? I'm not scared. I don't care if you kill me, even." More smiles on her end, and Flannel wondered exactly just who was being the childish one here. "Can you kill me? Do you even have the  _guts?_ "

"Pieri," he growled her name like a low threat beneath his feral voice, "you're annoying. You're really,  _really_ getting on my nerves."

"So? Whatcha gonna do about it, Flannel? Hmm?"

He did not respond to her this time, instead he merely rushed forward in an angled movement. The speed of his motions were too fast for her to anticipate, but she did start to reach for a dagger hidden in the hem of her outfit. It proved to be a useless endeavor. Suddenly she wished that she still had her armor on, and that she would not have been so foolish as to disarm herself before coming here. The possibility of a fight breaking out in her mind was very possible, but she ignored the proper cautionary measures anyway.

Now she was paying the price. Flannel pounced on her, and she was sure that his beastly mánagarm form would be there to shred her to pieces. Just like how he did to their enemies, just as he did to a certain mage named Dante some time ago. That Nohrian scum met his end at Flannel's hands, and so would Pieri.

Except she did _not_  feel blood, flesh, or worse spraying out from her like a fountain. She did not feel the icy pain of death, nor did she feel the warm trickle of life spilling out from beneath her. Instead, she felt her body be thrown firmly against the wall, held in place as a rough hand kept one arm above her, and the other arm locked at her side. While a bit stunned and dizzy, she was no worse for wear as she realized what had happened.

Flannel had pinned her to one of the empty walls of his domain, where the grievous decorations of strange objects (teeth, twine, and other oddities) were oddly absent. She did feel something snap underneath her feet, but that was to be expected. No, her body was in one pretty piece as Flannel had not killed her like he thought she would. He simply disarmed her further, and left her vulnerable through his touch.

She blushed furiously. "W-What are you—"

"—See? I could have done this from the beginning, right? But I didn't." He almost seemed proud of himself, like this show of restraint was a pleasantry and not the necessity that it certainly was meant to be. "You didn't stand a chance."

"..."

"Why are you so quiet? Before you were barking like a newborn pup, and now you're as silent as an elder? What gives?"

"I-I guess...I never expected to be caught off guard like that. Only Prince Marx has done this before. He taught me better than this." Her words spiraled downward, and she threatened to shake out of fear. "...You win."

"I thought so," he muttered halfheartedly. He wanted to let go of her hand, but he sort of liked the way she was right now—he found her helplessness rather endearing as her back was pressed against the wall, and her eyes were stuck to the ground. She lost the bravado she always claimed to had, only because he had done what he could have done from their initial meeting.

It was utterly intriguing, in all aspects.

"You should just leave now," he told her, "so I'm going to let you go—"

"—Are you?" She murmured, knowing her low voice would still be detected by his careful ears. They twitched nervously, and then almost folded inward when the paladin girl shoved her body forward, loosening the grip that Flannel had on her arm. Then she brought her hands to his collar, and pulled him down closer so he could meet her face.

They were inches away from kissing each other, and there was a hazy look in Pieri's eyes that was neither lustful nor forlorn. If anything, she seemed enlightened—like some large secret had been found out and she now knew the answer. There was a soft threading to her lips, that which made the pale pinks of it rise in delight, the corners spreading into some larger, more mischievous form.

 _What?_ Flannel thought hopelessly.  _What's going on?_

"What are you—"

"—I understand now. You're just as lost as ever." She wrapped her arms around his neck, and never once broke contact with his similarly red eyes. "I'll guide you, Flannel. I'll make things better."

"You're mad!" He insisted, feeling his cheeks heat up in lieu of her suggestion. While he was no stranger to love on hot nights, he was quite unused to this sudden dominance that had not come from his end. Worse was the fact that they were definitely in his room, and his bed was no farther than an arm's length away. Flannel hesitated.

"What's gotten into you, Pieri?"

"I'm not sure," she answered, "do you want to find out with me?"

"Stop," he muttered, "you don't know what you're talking about. Why the sudden change? This is commitment, isn't it? I can't just consign myself to you like this. If you're really thinking that—"

"—You wolves don't know this, do you?" She eyed him curiously, stretching her arm upward to caress the side of his face with her right hand. He flinched at her touch, but then bent underneath her gentle caress once he understood her intention. She laughed. "You think that partners are set for life. While that's the way it should be for most people, us humans are a bit more flexible."

"..."

"It doesn't mean you have to love me." Pieri reassured him. "You don't even  _have_  to love me. If it happens, it  _happens._ And you can still chase after Nishiki or anyone else you want to. We can pretend this never happened." A bitter edge appeared in her voice, and she cackled at him. "I  _know_ that's what you  _love_  to do."

"Pieri, we don't have to pretend anything if it doesn't happen in the first place. Why are you...?"

"It's for you," she answered him swiftly. "It's always been for you. Yes, I think I do like you, but I don't need something as silly as a marriage or a bond to validate me. If I know you love me too, even for tonight, then it's okay." Her voice cracked in the middle of that declaration, but she kept her head held up high. "I promise it's okay."

"Only for tonight?" He found that thought strange. To him, love was singular and ever lasting, and could never sway between different individuals. But the way Pieri described this new infidelity was exciting, and he wondered if she was telling the truth, or if she was lying to comfort him in some strange way that only she knew how to do. He was not sure.

"Only for tonight," she whispered, "if you'll let me."

"Before I even say anything," he began, "I just want to know something. What brought this on? I'm the last guy that deserves you, Pieri. I don't know if you knew this but I was saying all that terrible stuff before to try and get you angry." Maybe he was playing into her hands by admitting the truth to her like this, but he cared not for the technicalities of it. "I wanted you to storm out of here and forget about me."

"I  _know,_ " she hummed sweetly, "I'm not dense, Flannel. I could tell you were just trying to drive me away. I can pick these things apart easily. And you're sweet to tell Pieri what she deserves, but Pieri knows what she ought to get. The only thing she really deserves is death."

"That's not true—"

"—But instead of that, I have  _you_  right now. And Pieri thinks that's more than she could ever ask for." Her head tilted ever so slightly, and she leaned in forward to place a kiss on Flannel's exposed collarbone. He resisted the urge to shudder as she planted more soft, sweet butterflies against his skin. "Will you have me?"

"If I do," he warned her sternly, "then I think you'll get more than what you bargained for. Because  _if_  I have you—" Flannel smirked, and brought his arms to grab Pieri's hands once more, holding them high above her head as he pressed her forward into the wall— "I'll never  _hold back_  on you."

"I wouldn't want you to," she whispered hoarsely. She squirmed slightly underneath his hold, but did not try to fight her way out. "Don't hold out on me, Flannel."

"I won't."

And he started being sweeter than she could have ever anticipated him to be. He trailed kisses from her bound hands, all the way down the length of her pale arms and into the crooks of her elbows. She giggled, and with each laugh he commented something that he loved about her. Her eyes, he would say, were like earth and fire together, and he felt at home staring into them. Then he cursed her colorful hair, and playfully nipped at the overgrown strands hiding her green iris away like a captive. He would take one of his hands (keeping the other pinned to her wrists, of course) and brush the locks of hair from her eye.

She would gleam upward in his direction and bear that earthen, fiery stare for him to admire on forever. Then he spoke about her own stubbornness, and the fact that she could not see past her own two feet when it came to taking care of herself. He scolded her lightly, saying she was shortsighted and rude, but incredibly caring in her own strange way. He said her blood lust was a familiar feeling, and that with each wound she inflicted on someone, he wanted nothing more than to return that gruesomeness to her in full.

His sharp fangs were noticeable from his chapped lips, and they dragged themselves along the surface of her skin like a precise, loving blade which left tiny drops of blood in their wake. She shivered gently, resisting the urge to make some vulnerable noise that would completely destroy her then and there. Instead, she watched with equal fascination as the crimson pooled out from the wound, and Flannel gently nursed it to health until it no longer pained her.

"You still want to do this?" He asked her quietly. "I won't judge you either way."

"You better keep to that promise, Flannel." She answered him slyly. "Because  _this_  is all I want right now."

With that confirmation, he freed her hands, and picked up her smaller body with his own two arms. She laughed as he spun her around joyfully, as he seemed like the same old goofy Flannel he had been well before any of this even started. Then her laughter died down into sedate chuckles as he placed her down on his bed, towering over her frame with the shadow of his own physique.

They gazed at each other for a short moment, like irises gleaning in euphoric harmony. They had said so much in such a short time that they found themselves tired of conversation. They spoke everything else they needed to simply by looking at each other—and it was like knowing the world's secrets and more.

When they were satisfied with their knowledge, they started moving in tandem. Pieri reached her arms forward, and unbuttoned Flannel's vest, with his long-sleeved shirt following after. He, in turn, undid the complexities of her bodice and blouse, even going as far as to untie the ribbons with his own teeth. She laughed out of delight, and found herself happier when he spared himself a few chuckles, as well. Then he ran his hands through her hair, unraveling the ribbons that held the twintails together. Pieri's dual-colored hair fanned out behind her, like a set of wings that were ready to take flight.

They did not fly in the least, but the two of them soared as their clothes were finally and totally discarded, leaving nothing between them except the warmth and desire for blood and lust—equal forces that walked hand in hand on their ever passionate night.


	16. P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! This is a long-due update! Let me start off by saying that I appreciate every hit, kudos, comment, and bookmark that I get! You're all so wonderful for reading my stuff, and being so patient with my completely sporadic updates!
> 
> That being said, this chapter has been a work in progress for nearly months (it took that long because I procrastinate but also because life is just so busy, y'know?). To make up for it, it's almost 19,000 words long! So take a seat, get comfy, and read this chapter that is by far my favorite and most accurately represents my current writing style.
> 
> I plan on rewriting/editing the earlier chapters to keep my style consistent, and I apologize about my indecisiveness in that regard. 
> 
> Enjoy this chapter! It's a doozy, alright. It has torture stuff so be careful, okay?

  **Poacher**

n.  _a person who hunts or catches game or fish illegally._

* * *

Flannel was starting to realize that he was not the best at making decisions. It had been a long time coming, but somewhere along the line it finally clicked. Perhaps the night spent with Pieri was one that was hastily taken, and he should have done everything in his power to drive her off. Instead, she had charmed him in such a manner that he had invited her to stay, and all the pent up frustration and anger had been taken out on her in more ways than one.

When morning came, Flannel rose from his bed, and immediately glanced at Pieri sleeping at his side. There were bruises on her shoulder blades—those that blossomed in various violet colors—and beyond the initial beauty he could see them for what they were. It looked as if grapes were violently smashed against her porcelain skin. Her hair, pretty and odd as it was, laid in tangled strands all over her side of the bed, and she was a half-recognizable mess of blue and pink.

It was entirely endearing, and seeing her in such a way might have made up for the huge mistake last night. If only Flannel was not so embarrassed about it in the first place, then he could have saved himself some grief. That was not the case, though, as he quickly got dressed and ran a hasty hand through his messy hair. Looking in the half-broken mirror in his room, he frowned at himself, and narrowed his eyes until they appeared to be ruby-like slits of regret and hatred.

Why was he like this?

He did not give himself time to answer that thought. Quickly moving, he stood at Pieri's side and started shaking her. "Wake up!" He shouted. "It's morning already. You'd better get out of here before someone starts asking questions."

"Mmm," she yawned slowly, then carefully stretched her limbs as she sat up in his bed. Luckily for Flannel, the sheets were modest and covered the bare curves of her body. Otherwise he might have exploded with embarrassment a second time, and this time the darkness of night would not hide his easily reddened face. Pieri did not notice his inner conflict at all, however, as she rubbed away the sleepiness in her eyes. "Morning~"

"Yes, yes, good morning. We can talk later, okay?" He wanted to be mad at her but he could not bring himself to stir up such emotions. His excuse would be that he was too tired to think, and the earliness of the day had gotten the better of him. Regardless, he continued with his rushed sentiments. "The others might get suspicious."

"Let them suspect us," her tone was rather cold and clear for having just woken up. She laughed solemnly into her hands. "Oh, Flannel. Are you trying to look out for me? You're really sweet past all the gruffness, aren't you?"

"If you're talking about  _last night,_ I said we should save it for later." The amusing thought of  _I didn't want to break you_ came up in his mind, but he bit back his tongue from saying such impulsive things. "Until then, I'm officially kicking you out."

"Alright, alright," she muttered, becoming fully awake after stepping out of the bed. Flannel turned away when she began to put her clothes back on, but reverted his attention when she reached for his shoulder once more, fully dressed this time. There was an unmistakable look of forgiveness in her eyes, and she spoke with a light and airy tone. "Pieri had fun last night, at the very least. But you don't have to worry about that happening anymore."

"Huh?"

Her eyes became empathetic, and her lips twitched hesitantly before they rose up in their entirety—creating a wide and happy smile on her face. "I said it was a one-time thing, didn't I? But besides that, Pieri knows that she is not the one you  _really_  want in this room. Right?"

"Was it that obvious?" He flinched at the idea that he was less than amusing in their passionate hours, but it could not have been helped. She was right on the dot when it came to assessing him about his true feelings. And maybe it was their short-lived intimacy, but he felt that it was okay for her to poke at his heart like this. Even if that was not the case, he could still blame it all on the early morning. "Still, you don't have to say stuff like that for my sake, y'know? I...I'm startin' to realize it all for myself." Flannel paused for a moment, pretending that some dirty spot on the wall was more interesting than the woman in front of him. He gulped.

"You don't have to go through so much for me, okay? I can start pulling my own weight. Sorry if I always made you worry." Such sincerity from Flannel was usually unheard of, but perhaps he was growing up still, in all his inhuman years. Although it took a hot night in the cold winter to make him understand such things, it was better late than never. He decided that would be his resolve, and he started going with it. "Yesterday you wanted me to promise that I'll go talk to Nishiki. Well, I'll make sure to do that today."

Pieri's face lit up, and she jumped up and down in childish glee. "You mean it? Do you really, really mean it?"

"Yes, I mean it. Can't promise that I'll fix everything at once, though, since it's been complicated between the two of us." Not that she needed a reminder, though. Flannel and Nishiki's distance was so cold and so large that they might as well have been on separate continents, let alone in the same castle grounds for an indefinite amount of time. The thought of it stung the mánagarm with needles of guilt, that which penetrated his rough skin and sent ice through his veins. He shuddered.

"I'm glad," she said earnestly. "Because you two were like peas in a pod, y'know? You were like my horse and I. Always together, always playing around~" Pieri giggled, and rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "I can't believe I got to sleep with you before  _he_  did—"

"—You're  _really_ gonna have to stop saying stuff like that," the wolf interrupted, face reddening at the truth placed before him. "Just get out of here, already! Don't be so weird! I'll see you later, alright?" He started shoving her away, and Pieri went along with his harsh movements until she was face-to-face with the exit. The paladin sighed deeply, and was halfway out the door before she turned back on her heels, and smiled widely at Flannel again.

"But you're so fun to tease!" She insisted. "So very fun~ I think if I run into Nishiki before you do, I'll let him know a few tricks to keep you entertained in the bed—"

"— _Goodbye, Pieri._ " Cue the door slam in her face, which she did not find insulting as she should have—Pieri simply stepped back before the mechanism could make contact with her skin. She actually found the whole thing rather amusing. To see the lightheartedness between her and Flannel revive itself was nothing short of satisfying. She definitely preferred this heightened relationship between them, instead of those dreadful fights they used to have.

Now she could only hope that reconciliation between the wolf and fox was just as swift, lest the whole army suffer otherwise.

...

On the far side of the barracks was a single room, that which housed Nishiki and Orochi at the time. Their morning was not quite as boisterous as Flannel and Pieri's had been, and Orochi had awoken in silent tears. While the night before had been white-hot and passionate, by the time it was over it left her to drown in her dreary thoughts. By then the deed had certainly been done, and she laid there for a few moments wondering how everything had gone wrong so quickly.

This was not the fantasy that played out in her mind, but she hated herself for succumbing to such juvenile dreams in the first place. If only it had not been Nishiki she fell in love with—if only it had been some second-rate sap that she would have no qualms about using this way. And while the fox promised her again and again that he would not force her, she could only feel worse as it became obvious that  _she_ was the one forcing  _him._ In both situations up until now, all acts of romance between them were induced by Orochi's will alone. She had coaxed the love to come out from between them, and at any sight of its budding appearance, she snatched it up and devoured it in full.

It must have left the other exhausted. Not physically, but emotionally. There had to have been some regret weighing down on him, as well. And while he was so honest and sincere—almost to a fault—there were things that not even  _he_ would admit to her. Vulnerability and regret were some of those things, and although he said nothing about them, Orochi could just  _tell._

He really regretted their night together. He wanted to leave in the first place, and while some animalistic part of him saw the opportunity in Orochi, the rest of his good nature screamed at his every bone to resist and desist. His mind and heart were in full agreement that he should  _not_ have kept the onmyoji warm last night, but his conscience fought against them. As a result, they spent that wintry day together in the same room, with the same bareness between them that exposed more than just their bodies.

It left their souls open for the taking. And Orochi felt hers splitting into pieces at what she had done. Her eyes overfilled with new, angry tears that made her sob violently into the dawn. Nishiki awoke shortly afterward, a bit shocked to see her so despondent, and did everything he could to comfort her. But his kind words fell on righteously deaf ears, and she insisted that there was nothing he could do to help.

"You've done enough," she stated, not accusing him in the least. "Oh, you're always doing things for me, Nishiki. Why are you always so kind to me? Is it because you feel that you owe me something? Or because I'm so forceful that you don't even have a choice?"

"What are you talking about?" he wondered aloud. "Of course, I owe you, there's been so many times that you saved my life in battle and—"

"—Not that," she corrected him. "Not  _that._ I mean that you must obviously pity me. You would have to, otherwise last night would have never happened. Only this time, I don't deserve it, Nishiki." Her eyes pooled with more tears, and she buried her face in her slender hands. "Oh, Gods. I'm a mess. I'm such a mess!"

"You asked me to stay. I didn't have to," he pointed out. While his words were convincing, there was a slight dip in his usual lilt that indicated that he was not as confident and assured as he tried to make himself out to be. Nishiki was not one to lie unnecessarily like this, but he did not have the strength to tell Orochi that he wished he could have just left last night without undressing her. He did not have the heart to tell her that he regretted every single minute after that point, or that his skin was alive and hot but his heart was not beating out of love.

It was drumming out of anxiety more than anything, and it pained him to know that he left one of his best friends in such a state because of it.

She knew his tells, though. There was a slight twitch in his soft ears before they involuntarily folded in on themselves—there was a short flash of melancholy in his sunset eyes that disappeared in hopes she would not see it. But she caught onto it all. Orochi was clever enough before she met Nishiki, so she only got even more observant  _after_ she met him, too.

There was no lying to her, at least not in this moment. They both understood that, now. She spoke up once more, nearly choking on her words. "No, you didn't have to do anything, but I  _made_  you do it, nonetheless. Without hurting you or casting a spell on you, I made you stay with me. And I'm so sorry, Nishiki. I should have just let you walked away when you wanted to."

"..."

"C-Can you go right now? It's not a good time at all. Gods, I think Nyukusu is coming over later. And Asama, too—I don't want you to be here when that happens. Please leave."

He did not know whether her claims of having visitors soon was a lie or not, but he supposed that it did not matter, for he would have taken his leave either way. He agreed to her request sincerely, and gave her shoulder a reaffirming squeeze before he got up. Then he slipped back into his clothes— _haori,_ _zori,_ and the rest of it—without fail. Nishiki sent a lasting look in Orochi's direction, and held onto her violet eyes before breaking contact.

"Goodbye, Orochi," he said somberly. "I'll see you around."

...

The winter felt so long these days. Spring was supposed to be coming up in the near future, but their little realm was still encased in brutal ice. Sadly, the outside world was not any better, and all the soldiers in Kamui's army had a simultaneous feeling of dread and annoyance. This season was going to be a strenuous one, and the warmth of spring would come so late that by the time it showed its face, their hearts would have frozen together in one wintry amalgamation.

Nishiki felt this, too, and at this point he was utterly sick of the pure white expanse and the chilling air. He wanted the gentle spring to greet his fur again; he wanted the sweltering summer to invigorate his  _veins_ again. He wanted anything but this dwindling weather that only made him feel worse than he already did. The only bright side to this horribly dreary day was the fact that he had been assigned to a scouting patrol by Kamui themselves, and that he was to venture out of their secluded realm and into the world where Nohrians, Hoshidans, and Vallites alike were scrambling for survival.

Out there were the last vestigse of hope, and the opportunity for a fresh start again. It would remind him that he was a soldier in this place before anything else, and that he had his debts to pay in this army just like the rest of them. The issues he had with Flannel and Orochi were simple sidetracks in his main quest. He needed to wipe his ledger clean, and it would never happen if he stayed stagnant like the winter.

With that resolve in mind, Nishiki ran to find Kamui, ready to report to the royal and start his day accordingly. Luckily, they were in plain sight as they were assisting their older brothers with training, and were almost finished with it all by the time Nishiki got there. The dragon-born soon noticed their fellow beast, and walked over happily to greet them. They wiped their brow clean of sweat, and started off their greetings cheerfully.

"Good morning, Nishiki! Are you heading out now?"

"Yeah! I already know what I've got to do! I just wanted to let you know I was leaving," he laughed earnestly, tails swishing back and forth in rhythmic lulls. "So I'll see you then **—"**

"—Wait just a minute, Nishiki." Kamui reached out, and gently pulled the other by his wrist to reign him in. "I'm not sending you out alone."

"Huh? Why not? It's just a patrol, right? I can do it just fine by myself!"

"I don't want to risk it," they said. "There are plenty of dangers within these walls—just think of the stuff  _outside_ of it! I don't want to take any chances." They were adamant in this decision more than ever, and the conviction remained burning hot in their ruby red eyes. They stared him down for a moment, before voicing out in an even calmer tone: "Okay?"

"Sure! No worries at all! If you're so certain about it then I won't refuse!" Nishiki consented. He brought his hands in front of him, as if to signal to them  _it's no big deal, really._ But his voice remained earnest as he continued to speak. "So who's going with me, in that case? If it's Setsuna, then I'm gonna need to go pull her out of whatever trap she got stuck in just now!"

"No, it's not Setsuna," Kamui said in an amused tone. "She's with Tsukuyomi and Rinka today. Your partner is—oh, what good timing! He's right there! Good morning, Flannel!"

Nishiki hesitated. He even faltered in his gracious steps, but he could not do anything to right himself even if he wanted to. After all, Flannel avoided him for so long up until now, it was like Nishiki had a plague (which was a preposterous idea since youkos were immune to most human diseases!) that warranted him to stay in a self-proclaimed quarantine. But no sickness could truly impede him, and the real reason for their dragged out distance was because of a simple misunderstanding.

The reasonable one of the two did not even know that the other one misunderstood to begin with. The unreasonable one of the two, however, was too prideful to admit his faults to the other. Because of those things coupled together, reconciliation seemed hopeless and far away. But now they were pitted with each other involuntarily, and the time they would spend on their so called "patrol" would make or break them easily.

They stared at each other for a good moment. It was the first time that Flannel bothered to really  _look_ at Nishiki since casting him out, and he could tell that there was something different about the handsome man in front of him. Aside from his numerous tails, Nishiki wore an expression that was so scared and so unlike himself, that Flannel wondered if he had been replaced by a stranger look-alike. Or maybe it was Flannel himself that had changed. Maybe his darker eyes and nicer clothes helped illustrate his  _growth,_ and how the goofy gait he once walked and talked with has disappeared as it was replaced by something much more serious and much more drastic.

It was very awkward, to say the least. And Kamui had half the mind to speak up against it, but Flannel beat them to the punch. "Let's go," he grumbled. "We don't have time to waste."

"Sure thing," Nishiki replied. He ran after the other, who had gone at breakneck speed towards the exit. Halfway through the rush, he transformed into his wolfish appearance, and the fox matched him exactly. Within seconds, the two beasts were bounding down the icy fields, completely silent as the light of Lilith's power enveloped them and transported them far away from their camp. They were entirely quiet throughout the duration of it all.

Even when the light disappeared and they were back in the real world, there was nothing to be said between them.

They just kept running.

...

Halfway through their patrol, they decided to take on their human forms again, and strolled loftily through the forest paths and river streams. They made note of the nearby settlements and villages, and kept an ear, eye, and nose out for potential enemies. All the while being quiet and not saying a single word to each other since they left.

Nishiki did not know what to do. He could only hope that Flannel would incite conversation, but judging from the burrow in his eyebrows it was obvious that it was unlikely to happen. So Nishiki stepped up in his place, and broke the icy barrier between them with a warm greeting.

"Hey, Flannel!" Nishiki's voice peaked in excitement, but then he remembered that this was serious and regarded it as such. "I missed you."

"That's because you're always focused on the wrong things," he retorted bitterly, determined to drive the warmth away from him. "I've been around."

"You know what I mean," Nishiki said gently, trying not to sound hurt by the obviously harsh words. "You've been around but we haven't chatted in a while. How have you been?"

"Fine. I'm still alive." The blunt response was not surprising, but rather disappointing as Flannel shrugged his shoulders offhandedly. Then he looked elsewhere from his comrade. "Listen, let's just forget the small talk and—"

"—Why are you still mad at me?" It was not the forgiving, amicable tone that Nishiki was used to speaking in. The way he hissed out the sentence was similar to the attitude he took on the night he slaughtered Mara and her forces. There was that same harsh, feral snarl in the back of his throat that surprised Flannel every time it appeared. Now that it has reared its beastly head again, he could not help but be taken aback.

He always did forget that the fox was just as wild as he was. Flannel laughed in spite of this. "Why are you asking me something that you obviously know the answer to?"

"Because I'm sick of you ignoring me," Nishiki said. "I really missed you. I always want to talk to you, but you're never around. And now that we have some time to ourselves, you're still trying to avoid me!"

"Yeah, so what?" Flannel countered. "Who cares? Just 'cause we're shape-shifters, that means we gotta hang out all the time? Just because we kissed means that we're tied together for life? Do you hear yourself, Nishiki? You sound  _ridiculous._ "

"And you sound cruel, even," he said, "for  _you._ And that's the thing, Flannel. We were together for a while but then you suddenly left me alone. Was it because of Orochi? Were you so mad that I was hanging out with Orochi that you decided you never wanted to see me again?" The fox paused in his step, and glared sharp daggers into the wolf's broad back. "Is that it?"

Flannel did not bother turning around, because he knew what fires he would face if he did so. The burning indignation was alive inside of both of them, but Nishiki would never back down on something he so blatantly cared about. He would stoke the flames higher if it meant proving his argument. In that case, Flannel was just as persistent in making sure that the flames never reached his heart. But that did not help him when his voice had morphed into something too  _emotional_ for his liking.

Nishiki kept talking, anyway. "Do you really think that I would choose  _Orochi_ over  _you?_  Or that I would—"

"—I don't know  _what_  to think," Flannel admitted. "All I know is that I don't fall for just anyone. I can kill people and keep them warm in the same turn, but none of it matters if  _they_ don't matter. But  _you_ have always  _mattered._ You mean something to me, Nishiki. And I don't fool around when it comes to that."

"..." Nishiki wanted to say something, but he felt a sudden, unknown feeling grab hold of his chest. Was it guilt, regret, or shame? It became impossible to tell, but he could not let the other get away with the last word if he could help it. He struggled to say: "Flannel—"

"—I'm still mad at you because I  _care_. So there you have it." He took a step back, and straightened out his uneven posture that had bent in arrogant ways so as to give the other a hard time. Flannel was thankful that he was taller than Nishiki, otherwise his words would not have settled as powerfully. And if there was anything he would cling onto in a desperate fight like theirs, it was  _power._  "We can argue all day and night about it. But I'm just gonna get this Gods forsaken patrol over with so we can head back to camp. Alright?"

"...Alright," Nishiki gave in, the sound of his own obedience hurting his ears. "Fine, if that's what you want, then I won't say anymore about it!" The words slid out of his lips like acid, dripping down past him and burning holes into the ground. They were so  _cold_ and  _angry_ that it did not even sound like Nishiki was the one talking anymore. The animosity lit him up like a firework, and he was mere seconds away from exploding.

Flannel gulped.

Nishiki continued speaking without missing a beat. "Let's stop wasting each other's time." Angry breaths preceded themselves, and Nishiki pushed forward to take the lead. He had to, because he was going to  _completely lose it_  if he had to watch Flannel's sorry figure from behind any longer.

And it was not worth losing his dignity and pride, especially when it became clear to him that he had lost everything else.

...

Unspoken words hung in the air, and Nishiki and Flannel both felt as if they were on solo missions, instead. The only things that reminded them of each other's presence were their footsteps and occasional loud breaths. They were not exhausted from the hikes or patrols, but they were certainly  _bored._ Without conversation of either pleasant or unpleasant nature, the silence between them was very ugly and hard to overcome. Too many obstacles stood in their path, so it was easier to avoid it all in the first place instead of dredging up the difficulties again.

But they both felt apologetic towards each other. They both wanted to say something— _anything_ —that would remedy this situation. Yet they held their tongues and pressed forward, desperately trying to be interested in the task at hand. Even when the landmarks looked the same, and those villages remained stagnant in their position, the two of them really tried to pretend that there was nothing else in the world they would rather do than this mundane patrol.

Flannel lagged behind Nishiki, and used that distance to hide the fact that his hands had gone to the trinket around his neck. It was the same medallion that Nishiki had given him on his birthday way back when, the one that was painted with symbols bearing magical protection of some sort. If he remembered right, the necklace was supposed to be a good luck charm in a way—something that calmed him and guarded him in the same motion.  _Some protection that is,_ he thought bitterly.  _I_ _t let me open my stupid mouth and hurt Nishiki._

Nishiki was not any better on his own, however. His hair still sported the pin that Orochi had given him some time ago, even if the accessory only caused him grief, now. He secretly wished that he was alone, or that he had never gotten into this emotional wreck to begin with. It was hard to keep up his usual energy, and almost impossible to mask his displeasure with a fake smile. The only thing that comforted him was the distance between him and Flannel, because from there the wolf would not be able to see the indignant look in Nishiki's eyes, nor the pain and suffering he wore like a badge upon his chest.

Just as one of them felt the urge to say something, an interloper appeared. A fine, oaken shaft flew by their ears almost silently, but the sound of it was loud enough for the two beasts to take notice. They quickly dodged the arrow, and watched it stick itself into the branch of a tree behind them. Soft rustling in the bushes alerted them further, and Nishiki and Flannel transformed fluidly into their beast forms whilst looking at each other. "Go!" Nishiki yelled, and leaped into the bush where he detected the scent of the attacker.

A sniper laid hidden in the shade of the trees, and stumbled at the sudden speed that the nine-tailed fox displayed. He snapped angrily at the human, and bit the silver bow in half and spat the remains at the sniper's feet. They yelled loudly in their last moments as Nishiki dived at them, aiming his purposeful and lethal fangs at the base of their neck.

Blood bubbled over like a fountain into Nishiki's mouth, and he spat the excess out as his muzzle was stained darkly crimson. He could feel the opponent become limp before him, so he moved on as quickly as possible. There was more movement in the brush, and additional arrows came flying in his direction. He evaded them to the best of his ability, looking particularly troubled at a certain arrow that almost pierced his skin. Even if it did not manage to hurt him, he took it as a bad sign. After all, as he grew stronger over the days, so did his enemies, and he supposed that he might even be at a disadvantage considering their stats right now.

Luckily Flannel was there to help out. He crashed through the trees angrily, throwing the smaller timbers out of his way as he stomped through the foliage. His large, violent swipes were enough to bring down assailants from the trees above, and he jumped on any unfortunate soul that could not run away from his grasp in time. Sprays of red decorated the forest floor, as did discarded weapons snapped in twain. The wolf howled loudly, the noise echoing down the natural expanse like a death bell. Then he resumed his rampage, showing no mercy as he mowed down the rows of ambushes in full.

Nishiki caught up with him, and they covered each other's weaknesses as they faced the onslaught. Things went better than expected, and in between battles they felt the deeply woven magic and energy within their bodies restoring them little by little. Their forms resonated with an ethereal light, and in their rabid eyes were the remnants of hope and despair intermingling into one entity.

It was a beautiful harmony, and a special moment in time where they felt as if they were the only ones in the world.

By the end of it, they were somewhat tired, and shifted back into their human forms as they rested in a meadow. They trailed blood and battlements behind them, leaving red-strewn paths like autumn winds leaving behind colorful leaves. In the midst of harsh winter, those seasonal feelings were put to sleep—disappearing entirely in the bitter and battered cold that enveloped the two males in their entirety—effectively ruining them and saving them all at once.

...

Of all the ephemeral things in the world, Nishiki and Flannel's break in between slaughter was the most short-lived of them all. It seemed like only seconds passed when more enemies appeared from the forest, running and screaming into the meadow with weapons brandished and eyes emblazoned furiously. The two beasts were back on their feet, switching from their weaker humanoid forms to their original selves, resuming the bloodshed and fighting like it had never ended in the first place.

Initially, things were going well, and just like the first wave of intruders, these newcomers were put in their place in seconds' time. The fox and the wolf spared nothing, as their annoyance at being disrupted in their peace only helped to further fuel their cruelty. The ebb and flow of their relationship—the love and hate and in between—seeped into their bodies, and they fought so passionately that it scared their opposition into defeat when they merely set upon them with livid, scarlet eyes. Those irises shone with something unfathomable, and it left an eternal mystery in those that stared too long and faced their ends in the same instant.

It was so easy they vaguely wondered if their enemies learned anything at all.

Then they quickly witnessed for themselves just how  _wrong_ they were this whole time.

After the second wave of opponents came a third wave, then a fourth one after that. Fifth and sixth followed naturally, but by the time the seventh came around, the beasts were very,  _very_  tired. They started taking on more hits than they could land, and each frenzied movement only betrayed them as it allowed their enemies to gain an upper hand. A small flicker of hesitation from them gave a spark of reassurance to their opposition. A stumble in the wrong direction only helped to push the others the right way forward. The tides of fortune changed right away, and the duo did not believe what they were seeing.

_They were losing._

It was hard to keep track of who was down and who was up, and worse was when multiple arrows, spells, and daggers flew in the air and stung them like bees—while the sword fighters, lance users, and ax wielders flitted about the fields like beautiful but deadly butterflies. Coupled together, the mánagarm and the kyuubi no youko struggled indefinitely, and soon found themselves facing the only fitting solution left.

 _Escape_. They had to escape  _now_  if they ever wanted to be able to escape again. In the heat of battle, they suddenly (and literally) turned on their tails as they ran as fast as they could in the other direction. Cruel jeers and shouts followed after them, and the thunderous sound of dozens of enemy soldiers following them resonated throughout the woods. It sounded like a stampede more than anything, and their frantic minds did not need to think hard to know that the odds were not in their favor. If they fell here, then the mob would catch them and gut them alive, they were sure of it.

They broke through the trees and fell into another clearing. This was the last open space in the forest before the main entrance, and once they reached that they would be able to escape this hellish area in full. All they had to do was endure a little longer, and last another mile or so before they could reach safety and collapse in stammered apologies before the royal Kamui. If they could hold out, then they would be able to find Orochi or Pieri and apologize to them, too, and be eternally grateful for the women and all they have done for them. They might even be able to wrestle in the grass like they used to, and apologize to each other over hot soup and cold snow, forgetting the childish antics that drove them apart in the first place.

They could do all that and more, but it completely depended on a singular moment in time. It was a moment that seemed impossible and attainable all at once. Flannel's eyes widened as the trees came into view, and his wolfish form straightened out as the end was in sight.  _Yes,_ he thought happily.  _We're a_ _lmost there!_

"Nishiki, just hold on! I can see it, we're almost there! We're almost outta here!"

"Flannel, I—"

The fox's voice was already strained, but somehow it was pushed past its limit in an earsplitting screech. The sound of it startled the accompanying wolf, who screeched to a halt in his stride. He turned obliquely and gawked at the sight before him.

Nishiki tumbled face first into the grass, morphing back into his piteous human form whilst doing so. His body bore the brunt of a triad of arrows, but they could not have been just any arrows for him to have been hurt like that. Normal arrows of bronze, steel, iron, or even silver were not enough to cause a beast this much pain. Unless the arrows were the special kind of Prince Takumi's Fuujin Yumi, then it should not have brought the fox down like that.

The only explanation was one that not even Flannel was ready for. While beast killers were common among lance fighters, there was a weapon in bow and arrow form that served the same purpose—to  _kill_  beasts like Nishiki and Flannel in their entirety. The shafts that were sticking out of Nishiki's side and back were of a strange metal unseen, colored like copper blood and twisted in shape like a fang. The tip of the arrow seemed laced in an odd poison, but perhaps it was a magical charm that caused the soft crimson glow to appear from the wound, instead. In either case, these were arrows from a  _hunter's bow,_ and that could have only meant one thing.

They were being chased by  _poachers_. Those people just now were the unseen forces lurking in the shadows the whole time, waiting for the two of them to meander in the woods like lost children. And while they lost many of their members to Nishiki's speed or Flannel's strength, they knew they would win in the end. They had the power of magic and poison on their side—the power of hatred and  _vengeance_ on their side. How many of their people had fallen victim to Nishiki and Flannel before? How many of them wanted revenge on them as animals, but also as adversaries that claimed lives on the field the same way that someone claimed a steak for dinner? Gods, it was so easily comprehensible now, but despite that fact being present, Flannel remained utterly confused. He stumbled, then yelped out in pain as another enchanted bow fired at him, an accompanying arrow striking him in the shoulder.

When he fell back on his side, he was forcibly turned into a human. It was not the arrow that transformed them back, but the accumulated damage that happened as a result of all the fighting. And they were badly beaten from previously facing entire rounds of enemies by themselves, such these arrows were simply the straw to break the horse's back. They were the small push needed to send them over the edge.

And they did more than just fall off that edge. They were nosediving off of it, now.

"Nishiki!" Flannel screamed, and tried to rouse the other from his staggering pain. "Get up, get up! We can still—"

"—G-Go," Nishiki stuttered out, blood splattering from his mouth in between syllables. "I-I can't—" Another screech erupted as another offending arrow struck him in the leg. The agony was so great that he almost keeled over in Flannel's tremulous arms. Flannel nearly fainted himself.

"I'm  _not_ leaving you here," Flannel gasped, feeling hot tears prick at the corners of his eyes.  _Not now not now not now._ "I  _can't_ leave you here!"

"Y-You have to," Nishiki begged. "I won't let you stay here. Please go..."

"No! Stop it! You can't do this! I won't leave you! You're not—"

No reprieve was given to them, sadly, as their pursuers were only yards away from them at this point. Some were readying bows, while others fired up spell books and scrolls to further assault them with. Despite their great numbers, Flannel could not see them for what they were, and only blurred colors remained in his vision that shook as violently as his hands did. There was a bright light coming from somewhere that he did not know, and it felt like fire against his skin. Was he dying here with Nishiki? Or was he leaving? How could he decide between either fates when it meant certain doom no matter what?

Flannel's tears started to flow absentmindedly, and he dragged Nishiki with him in a last, futile attempt. He could feel his battered fingers digging into the other's skin, and thin traces of blood leak out through the cuts he left there. "No more," Nishiki pleaded and threw himself out of Flannel's reach. " _You're_ the one that has to leave! Go now!" Then the fox turned around and started pushing the wolf forward, instead. Through the bitter cold in his fractured mind and the sweltering blaze beneath his lacerated skin, Nishiki forged a weak path ahead, and made sure that it was not him who was at the front of it.

Flannel hardly had time to protest, and it did not help that the same bright light from before started assailing his vision once again. It confused him at first, but then suddenly things were easier to process. He felt wonderfully weightless and disconnected, like his mind and soul had detached themselves from his broken, beaten body. The sounds of Nishiki crying out in pain quieted down further behind him, and the angry chorus of yelling died down into a muffled yelp.

By the time Flannel realized what was happening, he was already outside of the forest. In fact, he was already back on the castle grounds, with the different fields, barracks, and shops in sight. He could not have the luxury of taking in his surroundings and understanding what was going on, so he settled for stumbling forward and searching for assistance.

Each step was one taken on fiery feet that protested moving. His blood screamed and whined sadly as it left his body, trailing behind him in sickening streams. His frantic eyes searched and searched for someone— _anyone_ —but found nothing. His bones threatened to break underneath his own weight, and he wanted very badly to rip his skin off his body because that might hurt less than the poisoned arrow in his shoulder.

He ended up finding Orochi and Tsukuyomi. They stared at him—and at the light still glowing from his medallion—in shock, nearly dropping their scrolls in their hands. The Nohrian fumbled with his own fingers, but managed to grasp at the bare edges of the female Hoshidan's silken clothes. He knelt before her painfully, and stared up desperately into her eyes. Red and purple met in one wounded stare, and their irises bled out vulnerably before their mouths could even hope to work. All the while the younger diviner-now-turned-basara stared helplessly at them, completely dumbfounded by the seconds' time it took for all of this to happen.

"Orochi," Flannel croaked out, his voice caked in fatigue and desolation. "I-I—"

"Dear Gods," she muttered, motioning for Tsukuyomi to grab a more experienced healer than her. He nodded, and disappeared in a colorful flurry in the distance. When that was settled, Orochi reverted her gaze to Flannel. He was someone that she would never truly be able to get along with, but all her animosity for him faded in light of the situation. She grasped for words in the air. "What happened to you? How did—"

"— _Nishiki,_ " he sobbed the other's name like a broken promise. Maybe it was, because it certainly felt like it. Saying the name alone left his chest in a seized-up frenzy. His heart thrashed wildly against the cage of his chest, and he cried out all the same. "Nishiki! I left him. He made me leave. I didn't remember moving. I ended up here. They've got him. Nishiki. They've—"

"—Who's got him? Do you mean those awful hunters? Didn't we deal with those pesky poachers already?" Her face became as white as her robes in realization. Her hands fell dimly at her sides, and she joined Flannel on the ground in defeat. "Oh.  _Oh._ That's just it, isn't it? We  _haven't_  dealt with them at all. This whole time they've been waiting. There's more of them. And they—"

"— _They got Nishiki,_ " Flannel deadpanned, no longer able to summon the emotion to the surface of his body. He felt like he was sliding between the floor and the sky, and that if he moved too much he might have fallen into the void that lay beneath it all. His hands were leaden and moved like clumsy masses to grasp at Orochi. He could not reach her, no matter how hard he tried, and when his limbs relaxed themselves he felt as if the atmosphere swallowed him whole.

"They  _got_  him. And I left him there to  _die._ "

"Flannel, it's not your fault, there's nothing you...or I...or anyone...c-could have..."

"It's like you said. Way back when. In the cell. I'll regret it if I don't talk to him, or something like that. Orochi, I will let you behead me right now if it means Nishiki will come back safely. Please. Tell me that he'll come back safely. Tell me..." The words were losing their sensibility, and Flannel did not notice the new figures appear around him. Their silhouettes were vaguely human and he could only guess at the names. Tsukuyomi, right? Sakura, right? Or was that Elise? Or one of those maid twins? Was that Kamui? Maybe Leon? Or Benoit? Pieri?

The names circled his head endlessly, and he fell forward in one heavy slump beneath it all. His breath caught in his throat, and then the chill in his body washed over him like a wave. He lost himself in that tide, eyes closing and heart devouring itself in despair. The remnants of clarity in his mind climbed over each other in angry, disparate motions, shouting and yelling at the wolf for his foolish mistake. Was he not a creature of loyalty and love? Was he not built out of ferocity and fire? How could he let the flames be snuffed out by a few arrows? How could he betray the one he loved the most at such a crucial time?

These questions wounded him further, but he felt as if he deserved the agony this time. Flannel had failed Nishiki when he needed him most. And that was worse than death itself.

...

"Looks like the other one escaped. That wolf, I mean."

"That's a shame, too, since garou and mánagarm fur are so much more appealing. The black, white, and red makes such a combo!"

"Yeah, well this  _kyuubi no youko_ will have to make do for now. He's unconscious, but we should be careful. He's the one that killed Mara, y'know."

"Huh. That's funny because he looks so pitiful. And so young, too. Doesn't matter though. Death don't discriminate between the sinners and the saints."

...

"This medallion is cursed, Pieri."

"No, Flannel, it's actually charmed."

"Yeah? And with what? All it's done is caused me suffering this whole time."

"It saved your  _life_. The charms that Orochi and Tsukuyomi cast on it are meant to protect you. Pieri is not sure of it herself, but when your life was in danger like that, it must have worked into overtime. When you were in danger, it saved you at the last second..."

"...Are you telling me that I would be with Nishiki right now if I wasn't wearing this damned necklace?"

"It's more complicated than that! I forgot how the explanation goes, but that light you saw was the magic forcing you to leave Nishiki's side and save yourself—hey, where are you going?"

"Simple. I'm going to find Orochi, and I'm going to  _wring her neck._ "

"You idiot! That medallion saved your sorry ass!  _She_  saved your sorry ass! And besides, now's not the time to be picking a fight. You should actually start being nicer to her."

"Why the  _fuck_ would I want to do that?"

"Because she's the one that's managed to convince the royals to form a search party. We're looking for Nishiki at sunup."

...

Nishiki remembered Flannel's face as he left him. The medallion around his neck shone with an ethereal light, the fragments of which sparkled in gold and silver hues. His eyes hazed over as the protection charm forced him to act against his will, and when Nishiki's broken voice pleaded for him to leave one last time, he actually did it. His shadowed self disappeared further into the foliage, and the fox was left with nothing but his pain and the bitter enemies that wanted him dead.

Maybe they would get their wish. The arrows enchanted with magic and poison left his body reeling, and every fiber in his being begged for relief. The sensation was boiling hot and icy cold all at once, each temperature leaving abrasive marks on his skin and heart. His mind was cloudier than the sky, which from his angle appeared to be on the verge on storming. If he was lucky, the lightning could strike him down before those poachers had a chance to. And maybe he would bleed out from his injuries and he would die in his human form, preventing those cruel monsters from taking his pelt and all the fur on it.

His ears and tail would remain as they were, but they could be shaved bald for all he cared. He would never let his true self fall before them. This human appearance was nothing more than a mirage of his true being, anyway, so he would let it all crumble away if he could.

But they would not even allow him that small luxury. In the bareness of his consciousness, he could feel his weight be picked up by multiple hands, and the deafening chorus of victory shouts and angry yells come to life below him. They wanted more blood than this. They wanted his body to bleed out for hundreds of people's worth, and they wanted Flannel's crimson eyes gouged out on spits, too. But they could have neither of those things, so they were rather subdued in their rancor.

Nishiki was too tired to muster strength for anything. He quietly and obediently fell into the oblivion in the back of his mind, letting his body fall to the mercy of the bloody hands beneath him.

...

He awoke feeling absolutely drained. His eyes adjusted quickly to his surroundings, only to realize that he was in a dark and dreary room that was more similar to a prison cell than anything. The colors were muddied and faded—grey, brown, and black overlapping into ugly and unrecognizable shades. There were various stones and rocks protruding from their places in the walls, with dark green ivy plants crawling alongside the gaps. And the floor beneath Nishiki was cool and slate with a layer of dirt that made it all uncomfortable to lie on.

But his body was badly injured, and he had no choice in the matter of where he rested or not.

The fact that he was even alive was rather puzzling, as he was sure those humans would have killed him swiftly once they got their hands on him. To leave him alive and to his own devices was a rather risky move, because once he started healing from his injuries he would muster the strength to fight back, and eventually escape. Once he got over the hampering pain, that is.

Yet the agony was not so quick to leave. It lingered like a ghost over his frame, and he shook visibly because of it. There was no energy within him to even try and prop himself back up, so he stared idly ahead of him and wondered what course of action to take from this point on. He had no intention of giving in, nor did he particularly feel like dying now that he was conscious. The window of opportunity for both had passed already.

Just as he thought those things, the door opened widely to let some harsh light inside. He could see easily without the light, so he figured this unveiling was for the human's sake if not his own. The fox stirred lightly as it was the most he could do with his current energy level. A pathetic whine escaped his lips unknowingly, and to this weakened display, the stranger laughed heartily.

Their laugh froze Nishiki to the core. It was eerie and scratchy, but above all else it was  _familiar._ Like Nishiki had heard this laugh before, somewhere else in his life. His memory was usually watertight so not much could get by him, and he knew if he focused just a _little_  more, then he would be able to tell whose laugh that was. He squeezed his eyes closed, and ignored the stranger as he thought back to every human he had ever met. While some were more memorable than most, his mind scoured the multitude of people and beasts alike, trying to find the original source of the noise.

"What a monstrosity. I can't believe the great, mystical  _kyuubi no youko_ fell so easily. Tell me, beast. Tell me the things I want to know."

 _Ah,_ he thought.  _I get it._

_I know you now. We've never met, but I know you._

_I've seen you in the eyes of someone else before._

"Quiet, are you? You seemed rather quiet as you cut down our forces like they were grass. Reflecting on yourself? Or are you thinking of the best way to beg for forgiveness before I make your life a living hell?"

"...Neither..." he answered decidedly. "I'll never beg you for anything...as long as I live..."

"Ooh," the stranger said, their voice soaked in genuine amazement. "You've still got some guts in you! Some women actually like that, y'know. As for me, I like my victims much more... _sedate_ than this. You'll learn your place in time. What short time you have left, anyway."

"...Ugh," Nishiki groaned, and rolled over on his back listlessly as he spoke. "What do you want with me?"

"It's simple. I want you to  _suffer._ " The woman walked over to him, and placed her foot on the square of his chest before continuing. He grunted, and weakly raised his hands to try and pry her off. It did not work in the slightest. "I want you to feel what I felt when you killed so many of my allies. When you killed my  _children._ "

Ice grew in the back of his mind and his body seized up involuntarily. The stifled fire in her voice burned him, but the meaning behind such angry words was what got to him the most. She spoke of children she lost, and he had the vague idea he knew exactly which children she was talking about.

One was a dark mage with a nasty laugh, and the other was a basara with a wicked grin. They both relished in Flannel and Nishiki's pain, and did everything in their power to put an end to their precious lives. Through strife and struggle, they failed in the end as they were both killed by either of the beasts. At the very least, their ends had been swift and painless past the first strike—but if this woman was as vengeful as she seemed, then Nishiki was in for the long haul.

She would slowly and methodically draw his blood, and take his will bit by bit until he was nothing but a broken mosaic of his previous self. She would cut past his skin to puncture his heart, and laugh maniacally to herself when she felt the pulsations throb feebly. She would step on him, spit on him, and do everything in her power to humiliate his grand pride. She would do all that and more, because none of it would amount to half the anguish she felt for losing her own children.

"You mean Mara..."

"Yes, my daughter Mara, and my son Dante. From what I hear you were never able to learn his name, not before you and your lot  _killed_ him. And a little birdie tells me that you personally put an end to my daughter, as well. It tells me that _her_  blood was on  _your_ hands, and yet you laughed cruelly in the face of her friends. Her allies, her subordinates—you massacred nearly all of them." Her voice was acid in his ears, dripping vicariously and slowly so as to worsen the process. There were obvious hinges of guilt, indignation, and amazement in her inflections, but it all paled in comparison to the righteous fury she had. "You killed them all."

He wanted to say something, anything. But it was impossible with the strength he had left. Fortunately, he did not have to think for very long, as the woman moved quickly. Her foot stomped down harder on his chest, and he squirmed uncomfortably.

"I will know what I want to know, in time. Very soon, you will obey me. You will  _bend_  to me. I've thought long and hard about what I want to do with you, and I've decided that death is much too easy." She stopped smothering her foot into his skin with a thoughtful pause. A single hand rested on her hip, and she snickered. "Death is so, so easy! Anyone can die! But only the strong can live. So I'll make you wish you were dead. I'll have you grovelling on your knees,  _beast._  And we'll start right now."

The fox struggled to move, what with the woman's foot on top of him so forcefully. Then he felt something stick him in the side, and he cried out unwillingly. He had seen blood too often that he could tell when it was there and when it was not. Although his mind was blurry, he had the distinct feeling that the blood came out in low sprays this time, and that it was clinging to the sleek, metallic edge of whatever blade she thrust into him. For that part, the fox was completely correct.

He overlooked another issue, however, and that is the issue of  _poison._ Before, the arrows which brought him down were either poisoned or charmed to hurt beasts in particular, so it would not surprise him if the human's dagger was another creation of the same make. He had to applaud their creativity for their armaments, if not lament them for all the pain they caused him. Nishiki heaved a laborious breath, and tilted his head to the side to try and inspect the damage.

She did not let him get away with that. She pressed her putrid fingers against his face, and harshly squeezed his cheeks so as to force him to stare at her. The rushed movements might have made him sick, but he was too dazed to truly think about it. His weary eyes locked with hers, and he could feel the flames of her hatred once more. She snarled: "This is just a taste. It gets worse, beast. I want my name, my face, and my  _torture_ to be etched upon you permanently. Once I'm done, you'll have nightmares about me. And one day, when I've had enough, you won't dream ever again. That is a  _promise._ "

"But until then," she muttered, and let go of Nishiki's face as she did so. "Until then, you can rot in here for just a little bit. Just until everything is ready for your complete and utter destruction. And I want you to remember your maker, I want you to remember what you've chosen to forget!" The woman seemed out of breath at this point, but ignored it all as she pulled on the fox's ears, and whispered into their folds with complete, acrid repulsion.

"My name is  _Vilra,_ and in the name of my fallen children, I will tear you to  _pieces._ "

...

It started off small. Vilra would come in and stab him in several places, making sure his body lapped up all the poison on the blade. She made it clear that his beaststone was destroyed, and that he would perish in his human form. Then she would take another stab at him, and relish in the pained squeaks that escaped. It did not hurt as much as it should, but Nishiki pretended it did because he knew worse forms of torture would soon follow. Yet there was a mutual understanding between the two of them that this would only get worse, so he soon abandoned the hopeful idea that Vilra would go easy on him if he acted like it hurt.

But it really did  _hurt_. When she was done with him for the day, he would be left with bleeding injuries (they slowly healed over time, and the wounds of yesterday would be gone by tomorrow) and bruised skin, writhing in the dirt as he hoped for release. Something that pained him in addition to the torture was the condition of his cell. As he got time to himself, he could understand his surroundings better, and it smelled like mold and sweat. It tasted like dry air and dust, and he coughed every now and then because of the murkiness of it all. Not to mention the dour conditions often invited insects and other creepy crawlies, things of which he was not particularly fond of.

Still, he had to be careful. Even as an all-powerful fox spirit, Nishiki had some very weak and surprising fears, those that humans normally had. One of those fears was in the form of spiders. Unlike Flannel (who Nishiki thought of constantly, more so now than ever), Nishiki did not share a fondness for the eight-legged abominations, and was rather frightened by their multi-eyed stares and hairy legs. Yet if he showed this weakness upon Vilra or any other enemy, they would use it against him. And her promises of torture and pain seemed very real, so the last thing he needed was for her to destroy him on a psychological level.

Although maybe it was too late for  _that,_ as well. Because as the hours ticked by, Nishiki could feel the clarity in his mind start to waver. At times, he would scuffle his own feet across the floor, and recoil back in fear thinking it was Vilra who made the sound. The metallic gleam of the discarded, broken blades in the corners of the cell no longer seemed useful, and they unsettled him to the point where he gulped at the sight of silver. Even if it was not a big deal to him before, things were different now that anything and everything that was a weapon could be laced with the poisonous substance specifically made to kill creatures like him from the inside out.

The psychological game had started, and it was more deeply rooted than Nishiki could ever anticipate. He could only hope that somewhere out there, Flannel was still alive, and that beyond the forest he had gotten help and treatment. Because at the end of the day, knowing that Flannel could have died was far more torturous than any scheme Vilra could concoct. And Nishiki knew this for a  _fact_.

...

It grew larger. The occasional stabbing was increased in frequency, but was no longer the sole perpetrator of Nishiki's pain. Vilra became slightly more creative, and added whippings and lashings to the whole ordeal. The whip was a normal one of thick leather—not enchanted or embalmed in some anti-beast nonsense—but its onslaught and cruelty still hurt nonetheless.

If only he had his beaststone. Without it, he could not transform, and the injuries from the previous battles coupled with Vilra's torture to increase his agony. Not to mention that it was hard to fight in his human form, as well, lessening his options even more so. So Nishiki had no choice but to accept the beatings, and bite his tongue against each lash and slice he felt. On one occasion, he bit his tongue  _too_ hard, and nearly choked on the blood it produced.

Vilra, unforgiving as ever, only laughed at his misery. "If you think that's bad, there's even more waiting for you. All of this is retribution, after all. The sad thing is, even when you  _die_ I won't be satisfied. So I guess I have to make things more intimate while you're still alive." She stepped carefully forward, and placed one foot on Nishiki's chest again. He slumped down further into the floor, but refused to make eye contact, still. She scoffed at him.

"Tell me, beast. Tell me your name."

"Never."

"Oh, feeling strong, are we? Feeling convicted? Feeling hopeful? Don't worry, it'll all go away when I'm done with you. By the time I'm finished, you'll be telling me everything I want to know."

"I doubt it." He paused momentarily, half-dazed with pain and half-awake through indignant fury. The feeling was strange, but he was thankful that he at least had the strength to continue resisting in small ways. "I'll never give into you. As long as I'm still alive, I'll resist you. You won't learn a thing about me."

"Keep telling yourself that, fox. Maybe it will come true. But until then, I'll do just as I want with you. You'll break eventually. Everyone does."

"Not me," he insisted. "I won't break."

"Oh, but you will. You won't notice yourself giving in, but you will. It'll start slowly. You'll stop resisting my attacks. You'll stop biting and shouting at the guards who come in and check on you. You might even start eating the unpalatable food we give you. It's a slow, gradual descent. But don't worry, I'll have played with you so many times before then that it will feel natural. In fact, it might even be fun." At this point, she was talking mostly to herself, and a faraway look in her rancid eyes almost made her seem vulnerable. But as soon as Nishiki lifted his arm in some semblance of movement, she stabbed his limb through with a knife she secretly held behind her back.

He cried out miserably again, but she ignored him and removed the blade, only to dig it into his other side instead. She did it in a way that affected him deeply, painfully, but not fatally. She would have him live after bleeding out entirely somehow. He could writhe and squirm, but she would only hurt him more because of it. He groaned at his discomfort, and she giggled in her momentary victory.

"And this," she said, "will be so much  _fun_."

...

It was getting worse. He was starting to become angry, and constantly fantasized about escape. But mostly, he thought about the one he had been with before this even started. Had Flannel died, after all? Or did Kamui save him, only to abandon Nishiki for his foolish heroism in the end? Not that it mattered if he was saved or not ( _But it does,_ he thought bitterly to himself,  _it does matter. Pl_ _ease save me_ ) but he wanted to know. One of the worst parts of his confinement, he decided, was  _not knowing_ what would happen. There were no windows in his room, so there was nothing to see or hear beyond the door. And even then, the only noises from out there were the guards changing shifts, or the metal slot opening for them to silently leave a tray of food for him.

Why they bothered with keeping him alive was still beyond his understanding. But he was sure not to eat anything they gave, regardless of the situation. He did not trust them at all, so it was likely for him to think they tampered with the meal somehow. Not to mention the fact that Nishiki could not stand the bad smell and inexperienced cookery that came with the food in the first place. Vilra had called it "unpalatable" before and she was not far off the target with that description. The food was the same color as the walls—gray and black—and he figured that to eat off the plate would be the same as giving in to their ways.

So even though he could stand to take a few hits or two, he would not fade away entirely. He would not eat out of their hands or beg for forgiveness like Vilra wanted to. Instead, he would be defiant and loud. The thought of it made him smile, although it came across as too hopeful, but he was sure of it. He was sure that the next time Vilra walked in, Nishiki would use the sharp-edged metal he found in the corner, and slit her throat wide open. Yes, the next time she reared her smirking, ugly face around, he would gouge  _her_ eyes out, and make  _her_ scream for forgiveness. It was too simple, too easy, and too real in his mind.

He could not  _wait_ for tomorrow to come. He slept on the dirt again, and closed his eyes as slumber grabbed him instantaneously.

Needless to say, he dreamed of Flannel that night.

...

"Miss Vilra?"

"Yes?"

"We did what you wanted us to. We tested out the fox's reaction to everything. Snakes, lizards, even rabid dogs! He didn't blink an eye."

"Well, we'll just have to try harder. What about the worms? The slugs?"

"We ran out of those. We fed those to the slop, remember?"

"Let's see, then, something that even a fox would hate... _Oh,_ I know. What about  _spiders?_ "

"Spiders? No offense, ma'am, but we only tried the lizards to begin with because they were venomous. Spiders are pretty bad, too, but otherwise they're too small to be scary to anyone..."

"Be that as it may, it might actually work.  _Kyuubi no youko_ or not, everyone is afraid of _something_."

"Then we'll try the spiders as soon as we can."

"Good work. Oh, and get the scissors ready for me, while you're at it."

"Huh?"

"Get the scissors ready, I said. I feel like our prisoner needs a new haircut..."

...

"Where is he? Where could he be? I don't understand, Pieri, he was right here the last time I saw him! We were just fighting for our lives and then..."

"There was definitely a battle in this grass, alright. This meadow is dyed all sorts of fun colors."

"Where could they have taken him? There's not much accessible land past here. I didn't hear any rumors of them in the nearest towns, either. So why...?"

"You're thinking too hard about this. Why don't you track his scent? Maybe that will be easier than trying the old-fashioned way."

"Yeah, but they could have covered it up. If they had half a brain at all, they'd do somethin' like that."

"Well, let's say they  _don't_  have half a brain. Just track him, anyway. Don't tell me you forgot his scent, Flannel!"

"No way! I know it by heart. Just let me try..."

"Okay, hurry up. The royals agreed to a search party, but I know their ways better than anyone. If they think it's useless they'll just give up on it, Flannel. They'll give up on Nishiki."

"...Well,  _I_  won't give up on him. Not again. Hold on, I think I'm getting something—"

...

Everything went wrong.

Nishiki envisioned his escape by his own hands, and Vilra lying dead with a slit throat at his feet. Instead, he awoke to cold water dousing him thoroughly, and multiple hands tying up his feet and legs. For good measure, the guards also struck him in the side with poisoned arrows, to defeat any hopes or energy that he might have stored within him for the day. Through it all, Nishiki grimaced and hissed through his teeth, becoming all too familiar with the iron taste in his mouth and the awful thrumming in his chest.

Something was bad about today, he just knew. And it became true after the guards finished binding his limbs, because they made way for Vilra, who strutted into the room as if it were a dance hall and not a prison cell like it was. She leaned down, and pulled back on the ends of Nishiki's hair to tilt his head upward. He glared into her eyes with such vengeance that if she were any lesser, she might have become scared. But the hatred fueling her since day one remained in her soul, and she only laughed at him with hardened anger.

Oh, he was  _sick_ of that laugh. But she went on to cackle, anyway. "Good morning, beastie. I have a gift for you. A little birdie tells me you're not scared of much."

"I don't want anything from  _you."_

"Funny you should say that, because I have just the present for you, anyway! Here you go, beast. It's from me." She reached her hand out, and spitefully shoved it in his direction. He was confused at first, because he expected the gift to be nothing more than a stab to the chest, with a dagger, knife, or arrow of some sorts. It might even be a bit of magic, if his captors were getting even more creative with punishments, now.

It was neither of those things. It was the one thing he hoped that they would never set upon him, in his entire time of being trapped in their dungeon.

It was a  _spider_ _—_ a big, black spider with startlingly long legs that moved like a needle on thread. Its tiny eyes were fervent, feverish, and it wasted no time climbing out from Vilra's hand and onto Nishiki's shirt.

He screamed.

She laughed.

"See, what did I tell you all earlier?" Vilra rose to her feet, and relished in the panicked frenzy that Nishiki took to. With his limbs restrained, he had no way of dispelling the arachnid that seemed determined to linger on his body. He squirmed frantically, whimpering nonsensical words to himself as he tried his hardest to break free.

This was so, so  _satisfying_ to her. She smiled and laughed even more, cajoling the other guards to join her in her revelry. "Everyone is afraid of  _something._ Who knew that this beast would be so scared of  _spiders?"_

All the while her taunts lingered in the air, Nishiki continued to scream like they were really, really torturing him. And maybe they were, because after the continued beatings and the elongated suffering, it was hard to tell what was and was not painful anymore. It was hard to discern between the poison in the arrows and the poison in his mind, because both left him feeling dizzy and disoriented all the same. Worse was that they managed to spread their influence into the psychological realm, because nothing was more mentally taxing than being pitted against one's worst fear, and having no way to escape it in the slightest.

Yes, as long as Nishiki remained captive in their cell, he was nothing more than a toy for them to play with. He had done his best to tough it out the past few days (or was it weeks? Maybe even months? Time was lost on him, now) but even  _he_ had his limits. The exhaustion from not eating properly, sleeping properly, or healing properly had all stacked up against him, and he was greatly paying the price for such insolence. As long as Nishiki stayed in this place, then he would start fading away, until nothing was left but the bundle of nerves he had been painstakingly reduced to.

Nothing would be left but the nerves, and the  _blood_ that was constantly being shed from his body. As the fox screamed and cried at the mere sight of a spider, his side leaked out even more blood as the thin arrow wounds left tiny holes to fester injury and pain all at once. Each movement made to escape the spider only helped to worsen the agony, and at some point Nishiki fell over his own bindings, tumbling and falling face first into the dirty floors. Mocking laughter erupted around him, and a crowd of people poked and prodded him, inciting misery with the slightest touch of hand. The spitting, kicking, and shoving on their end did not help him feel better in the slightest.

It got much worse, their treatment of him. And Nishiki scolded himself for ever thinking it could possibly get better.

...

He was fading away.

He knew he was, because he stopped caring about the time of day. Before, he would struggle to figure out if it was light or dark outside, or if hours had passed or not. But the idea of holding onto time—as fabricated and nonsensical as the idea was—no longer mattered to him. In fact, Nishiki thought very sourly to himself that he was a fool for guiding his life with the sun's rise and fall, anyway. He should have lived freely without any boundaries, even the boundaries of time and space themselves.

He was fading.

In the early stages of his abuse, he recalled himself being so vigilant and defiant, despite the bone-shattering torture he received. He remembered the fire he carried himself with, the resolve to  _stay_ alive and to get back at his abusers somehow. It seemed so easy back then, and he lamented the sudden increase in difficulty as of late. Hope was a far away wish now, and he felt silly for clinging onto it as long as he did.

He used to sing songs to himself to keep himself tethered to reality. Now the only thing he heard with certainty was Vilra's words, pounding against his ears and hissing into his skin. What was it she had said, way back when? She said he would start breaking, and he would not notice it at first. She said that it was a gradual descent into madness, one that he was sure to take after the torture took its toll on him. She said that it would start little by little, and his resistance to her methods would be the first thing to go. Then would be his refusal to eat their food and drink their water. Then would be the refusal to be treated this way at all.

She said he would surely give in.

He thought to himself that she was right all along, and there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling down into this spiral of hell he had gotten himself into.

He was fading away.

...

"He started eating, Miss Vilra."

"Really? You're not just pulling my leg, are you?"

"No, ma'am! We left the tray for him this morning, and when we came back for it in the afternoon, it was cleaned off!"

"How fascinating! That food is half-baked at best, yet he ate it in its entirety..."

"To be fair, he hasn't eaten anything since he got there. Even if he's not human, there's only so long he can go before he starves to death!"

"That's true. Well, keep me updated. And please make sure that you have bags ready."

"Huh? Bags for what?"

"Why, bags for the fur that we'll be cutting off from his body, of course!"

...

Nishiki stared at his wrists and ankles. They were just a bit thinner than he remembered them being, but other than that they were perfectly fine. Well, they had strange purple marks on them— _bruises,_ he thinks they were called—but that was besides the point! He looked at his own body and figured that he was in good shape, all things considering. Of course, his meals were still lackluster, and his room could use some better lighting, but all he had to do was talk to Kamui about it! They were so nice to him most of the time, they surely wouldn't mind giving him some spending money, right? Yes, that seemed to be in order, so he got excited at the prospect. He would ask Kamui for some monetary liberties, and after decorating the room and buying some nice food, he could pay them back and everything would be fine and settled!

Then he would stand up, and try to open the door. Only, standing up proved to be a much harder task than before—what with his world spinning and his body yelling strange things at him to sit down, or whatever—and the door didn't seem to have a handle on his side. Or maybe it did, but no matter what he grasped he only found solid steel at his fingertips. Nishiki frowned, and sat back down when the world spun  _too much_ for his liking.

Huh. Strange.

Then he gave himself another once over, and realized there were tiny bumps on his chest and neck. They were small in number—five at the most, if the fifth bump was actually a bump and not his nipple or something—but strangely bright red and noticeable. He felt a stinging sensation when his fingers grazed over them, and the touch of pain was what he needed to realize what was happening.

"Oh," he said aloud. "Oh, those are  _spider bites."_

Five minutes later, and Nishiki let out a chaste scream. It ended shortly because he buried his face in his hands, and started laughing instead. The noise came out in broken, disjointed strings, and they died with soft whimpers trailing behind them. His breath hitched further, and he dug his (dirty) fingernails into his cheeks for his insolence.

"I'm going  _mad,_ " he said to himself. "Oh Gods, I'm actually losing it."

The vague thought of fading and reappearing passed through his mind once, but something cold climbed up his skin which made him shiver. All at once, he dropped his hands, and laughed again when he understood what was happening. Nishiki curled in on himself, and stared obliquely into the dirt patches that settled between his legs.

"Maybe I can ask Kamui for help later. Along with that spending money, I'm gonna be asking for a lot...I'll...repay them, though...like I always do..." the words did not sound like his own anymore, so he stopped paying attention if they came out of his mouth or not. His eyes trailed to the purple ( _bruises)_ on his wrists and hands, the remnants of sanity in his mind screaming the words "rope" and "torture" at him, but he could not make heads or tails of what those exact words meant. He just turned his hands over and over again, staring at the marred skin by the wrists and the bloodied cuts along the fingers. Then he stared at his ankles, his feet, his toes—and gawked at the blood and dirt that smeared over the surface like fresh paint.

He stared and stared, and finding nothing worth noting, he fell onto his back and looked at the ceiling.

He laughed again.

He lost himself again.

...

"Beastie, you're so tame this morning. You've finally broken, haven't you?"

"W-What are you saying? I'm not a vase, I can't just... _break."_

"Well, you're not entirely wrong, but you're not right, either."

"..."

"Beastie, do you remember my name?"

"Yes. Your name is Vilra."

"Hahaha! Yes, yes it  _is_ Vilra! So kind of you to remember! Now, I asked you a long time ago what  _your_ name was, but you never told me it!"

"I didn't? That's awfully rude of me!"

"That's what I said. Now, if you'd be so kind...please tell me your name."

"Okay. My name is..."

"...Yes?"

"... _Nishiki_. My name is Nishiki."

...

After that day passed, the edge of sanity came back for a short moment. Nishiki became livid at the realization of what he had been doing this whole time. He ate their food, drank their water, and accepted their beatings like it was nothing. He bled, bled,  _bled_ until he was half-dry, only to hydrate himself once more on their meager supplies and return himself to a mere fraction of what he used to be. He talked to himself and paced around aimlessly in the room. He recoiled at the sound of his own footsteps, the sight of his own shadow, and the smell of his own body. He screamed and yelled whenever they brought spiders to him, and cried and begged for death in between these moments of hysteria.

All of this transpired and more, but with each passing moment-hour-day, he was losing awareness of what was  _truly_ happening around him. The only thing that brought him back to reality was the sound of him saying his  _own name._ Because for the longest time, he refused to let Vilra or anyone else know his identity. Not that they would know him as Nishiki, chief of the youkos—but the fact that they knew him as Nishiki, the  _kyuubi no youko_ of Kamui's army, was already too much information to have indulged. Yet at the same time, his own name was the spell needed to break the curse of exhaustion and torture—that which had stubbornly claimed its hold over him, rendering him unstable and unsteady in one full sweep.

He nearly had a heart attack thinking about those lapses in judgement. But he would falter no longer. He did not want to completely drop away into that incomprehensible, obedient mess of a person that he had been for a short time. He did not want to lose himself, and become whatever monstrosity they were trying to turn him into by keeping him there for as long as they did.

He did not want to give up anymore.

So he steeled himself, and looked at a tiny sliver of his reflection in the metal tray they brought his food on. He was definitely thinner, but he was not emaciated like he feared he would be. And he had not eaten properly for days before finally eating the slop they gave him, so that was saying something! Then aside from that was the fact that his face had not changed too much. Sure, he was covered in grime and blood from the dirty conditions and the sound beatings, but he could still see bits of his golden skin that were miraculously untouched by the horrors around him. Even better than that were his eyes, which were unchanged in color and shape, and still functional in their entirety.

The best part, however, was that his hair and fur was still in tact. None of it had been haphazardly shaved off or cut, and for that he was just a tiny bit  _grateful._ His image had been everything before, and it was his image now that kept him grounded to the earth again. Without this little self-consciousness on his end, he might have floated far away from his body again, going somewhere that not even  _he_ knew where. Nishiki sighed deeply, and let his body shiver with the awareness of it all.

He still had a chance, after all.

...

"N-No, don't  _touch_ me! Get away from me...!"

"Nishiki, what's wrong? We were having so much fun before. When did you get so rude, hmm?"

"Shut up! I see through you, Vilra! All of you, you're just m—"

"—Now, if you call me a monster I  _will_ laugh at you, fair warning.  _You're_  the real monster, here, after all. You killed my daughter in cold blood, not to mention most of her friends and allies. Don't forget that little factoid just because I'm giving you hell right now!"

"I-I—"

"—Oh, and you keep stuttering! What's wrong? Are you  _scared_ of me, Nishiki? Does my very image burn you with hatred and fear all at once? Do you maybe, just maybe, feel a  _sliver_ of what I felt when I heard both of my children had been killed mercilessly? Do you maybe, just  _maybe,_ understand a  _fraction_ of my suffering when I discovered that the only people I loved were ripped out of my hands like nothing? Do you?"

"S-Stop it already...it's their fault for getting in the way. It's your fault that I...well, I'm not scared of you!"

"Then why are you shaking?"

"...That's..."

"Haha, you  _are_ scared. I see it in your eyes, that primal fear. Then, tell me Nishiki, what would you prefer? Spiders, today? Or how about a nice lash-and-slash session with a hunter's dagger? Hmm? Name your poison, Nishiki!"

"Stop it. Don't say my name! Stop saying my name. Stop it, stop it,  _stop it!"_

"Oh, but I  _like_ your name, Nishiki. And now you're really begging me, huh? That's too bad. Even if you grovel on your knees and eat the dirt off the floor, I'll never listen to your pleas. Hehehehe! Ahahaha!"

"...Stop...it..."

"So then, Nishiki. Let's not waste anymore time. I actually have something very  _special_  planned out for you. How would you like a little haircut?"

...

His screams died out. His constant overuse of his voice reduced his vocal cords to hoarse and rough strings of instability. Lacking the sugar and honey of his voice, he had nothing left to defend himself with. There were no weapons at his disposal, and there surely were no miracles in the making. He was bare and exposed, like a nerve ready to be hit on at every angle, or a duck sitting in a pond without a way to escape a hunter's arrow.

His screams died out, so he could do nothing but whine and cry as they continued to take away what was his. They did not even have to tie him up, because the poison in his system was enough to keep him vulnerable, and Vilra was surprisingly strong so she could easily hold him down with one hand and hurt him with the other.

As it currently was, she pinned him down with her non-dominant hand, the other hand brandishing the glint of something metallic. Nishiki was nothing short of fearful, and his amber eyes were bleary with fatigue and despair. He had trouble focusing on her, and each movement she made was a shaky frame in his vision that only served to disorient him further. He felt dreamy and distant, like his soul had been forcibly separated from his body, and he was watching this all from and outsider's point of view.

No matter the perspective, however, there were a few things he could agree were real. The metal was blinding, for one, and its steel edge came crashing down on him like a tower collapsing on his body. Yet he did not feel anything pierce his skin, and he did not lose any more blood than he already lost before, so all of it together served only to confuse him further. But then his head suddenly felt lighter, and he could feel  _something_ snip and shear away, with little clicking noises signaling this change in between.

It was his hair.

They were cutting it off.

It was the last straw needed to entirely break him and send him over the edge. He wept unabashedly, thrashing himself to try and throw Vilra off from his body. She simply cackled at his attempts to resist, and forced him back into obedience by stabbing his side with another dagger. She twisted it until it burned unbearably, and between the new wound and the lost hair, Nishiki could not evenly divide his attention. Instead, his eyes landed on hers, and her venomous stare was enough to send him into cardiac arrest.

She bore, bore,  _bore_ that acid into him, pressing her heated body against his in a vengeful show of pure  _hatred._ She sneered at him, laughed at him, and debased him with each disharmonious note in her voice. It grated against his ears and pounded over his eyes, pulling a veil over his mind and soul as she dragged him through her madness.

Vilra cut away more hair. By the sound of it, she chopped off the soft strands in uneven, haphazard movements, and his perfect image was now desecrated to all hell. He felt patches of his hair fall off in clumps, and other times he only felt tiny snips of hair fall off his shoulders. Even worse was the knife pressed against his ears and tail. She subdued him, and relished in his frenzied whines as she viciously  _cut_ away at the fur there. He felt cold when his bare skin underneath the fur was exposed, and even colder when the edge of the knife was  _too rough_ and it took off the top layer of skin along with the fur.

( _She revealed the red raw_ truth  _from underneath his skin.)_

He sobbed. He begged. He whined. She heard none of it as her laughter drowned him out, and drowned out all the other sounds in the prison cell. The guards watched with a nervous stare as their leader lost herself in the frenzy of it all, cackling and shouting declarations of revenge and death into the air. All the while Nishiki was helpless and writhed in his own indignation and agony.

But this treatment continued into the night. And when she was finally done, he could feel his head grow fuzzy with the kicks she was giving it—steel-toed boots threatening to cave his skull in. Were it a human's skull, it might have actually cracked open and spilled out its thoughts and contents for all the world to see. But he was not a human, so he had to settle for the drumming pain that accumulated there, and the cotton that filled his head and left him unable to think.

By the time Vilra finally left, Nishiki had about half as much hair and fur as he used to. The precious materials were stuffed into bags and counted like any other object. Then the poachers seemed so pleased with their work, it was as if Nishiki no longer existed. They slammed the door on him, leaving him trapped in the infinite darkness of the cell. If he had half the strength he started off with, he might have cursed their names and cried out for redemption.

But he did not have that strength anymore. It leaked out of him along with his blood, and it dried into pathetic stains on the floor below him.

His screams died out.

...

For a long time, Nishiki just laid on the floor. It was filthy and disgusting, but its saving grace was that it was cold and helped him sweat out a fever he surely had. And he remained on that surface in an entirely still manner, unless it was to flinch at the bright light that invaded the room whenever the door opened. Sometimes, he would recoil at the harsh touch of Vilra or another torturer, but otherwise he made no outright movements himself.

His voice was once honey and lilac, but it had been smothered down to gravel and weeds without his permission. The sound of his own words tore up his ears, so he kept his mouth shut except to inhale sharply every now and then. And as he continued to stay on the floor, he found himself unable to do anything but attempt to suppress the quiet whimpers that escaped his chapped lips.

His head had too many thoughts yet none at all. He felt broken and empty, but full of hatred and resignation. Whenever despair filled his heart, a tiny sliver of hope followed after it. Energy surged through him at lightning speed, and fell out just as quickly.

Everything and nothing—all or none—circulated through him in tandem. At some point he even started hallucinating, and these feverish visions showed him the smiling faces of his family and friends back home. These visions gave him the dream of seeing their bright visage, of returning to windy paths and leaf-strewn valleys, of running through streams and resting in the shade again. All he could see was his fellow foxes surrounding him, sharing their warmth and love and admiration with him, and he returned these gestures with wholehearted sincerity.

The same visions showed him gruesome sights of the other soldiers in Kamui's army—Orochi, Pieri, Takumi, Kagerou, Leon, Elise, Sakura, and the others—dying or dead at the hands of some unknown force. He saw their lifeless eyes, unmoving bodies, and still breaths all at once. He saw broken bones, torn flesh, and spilled blood decorating the ground and the walls of a room like they were paintings, frames, or flowers instead. He saw gleaming fangs, heard whimpering sobs, and felt cold metal against soft skin. All he could see were his allies and friends around him, sitting in their own death and filth, looking up at him with pleading expressions as if to ask him how he could let this happen to them.

Nothing felt right. Nothing felt  _real_.

He grew weary trying to sort it all out in his mind. He would pull at his hair if it were not awkwardly cut and ruined the way it was. Accepting defeat (yet denying it all the same), Nishiki just collapsed into himself, and let the world continue around him. He did not want to live. He did not want to die. He wanted no part in the revolutions of the earth, or the revolutions of  _life_  anymore.

For a long, long,  _long_ time, Nishiki just laid on the floor. The planet kept spinning ahead of him.

...

Resplendent light spilled into the room again, casting guiding rays in the deepest corners of the room. It was a bright but unobtrusive light, one that comforted him and healed him all the same. As Nishiki gazed into the glowing sight, he vaguely wondered when he managed to die along this rugged path. He wondered why he could not hear Vilra's evil laughter or the clink of metal waiting to lash out at him.

He wanted to move, utter, scream— _anything_ that would show he was still alive. Maybe his eyes were still vivacious, but he sincerely doubted it because his eyes lost their gleam a  _long_ time ago. Surely the amber color had dulled into muddy brown by now, perfectly reflecting the state of Nishiki's soul as he felt like he had been submerged underwater for long periods of time, only to emerge from the murky depths to be cut and dried like a fish caught in a net. The earthen, fiery stare he once had must have been subdued. He was no longer earth and fire; all he had left was the remnants of dirt and smoke, mixing into one terribly boring and ugly shade.

He was so, so, so  _ugly._ He lost his beauty long ago, undoubtedly, back when they took everything from him. Back when they tortured him into silence and into noise, where they had cut away at his identity piece by piece until he was nothing but the shards of the mosaic he once was.

( _That metaphor sounds oddly familiar. Didn't someone promise to break him, once?)_

Any thought he had lived and died on his tongue like a shriveled up wish. A mouth so unused to anything was all that remained of it, jaws and lips that move but do not do anything beyond their outer appearance. No songs, stories, or sweet nothings came out from that mouth anymore. No lies, promises, secrets, or scandals escaped his throat anymore. He was not even sure if his tongue was still there—maybe it dried out into an empty husk like him. Maybe it shriveled and escaped his body like his soul did.

Maybe.

Occasionally, his chest rose up-and-down to signify breathing. But that was the base of his existence, right? A breath meant life and life meant hope and hope meant anything that was  _not_ this situation right now. Or maybe this situation  _was_ hope, staring Nishiki down with a vulnerable stare unlike any other. Yet if this discomfort and pain was hope, Nishiki preferred drowning in his despair, instead.

Whoever let the light into the room saw this, and there was a hitch in a breath that was not his own. They sounded scared, somehow. Like the person inside the room was a monster waiting to pounce, or a mindless zombie that existed without living. Like they had stumbled across a dirty secret that should never have been unearthed, and there was no going back to the ignorant bliss they once had before.

Whoever it was, they were shocked to see Nishiki in such a state. And surely Nishiki would share their sentiments, if he still understood what it meant to  _feel_ anything, anyway.

The long nights of torture and the endless days of beatings desensitized him in the best—and worst—way. His fingers lacked the twitch of life and the curl of muscles that illustrated to outside forces his strength to keep going anymore. His body lacked the energy to start up, and do anything that was not overtly lying down and giving up without protest. His mind lacked the capacity to think beyond the haunting visions and the pained delusions he had been stuck with all this time. His heart lacked the vivacity to beat faster, or the desire to cling onto the emotions of a moment that existed beyond the bloody rib cage.

His soul lacked the power to do anything more than lie down, and be reduced to wisps of its former glory.

The stranger took a step forward, and Nishiki did not even  _blink._ He just stared ahead of himself, watching the world from a sideways view because he was lying on his side and not planning on changing that. The stranger muttered words under their breath, and Nishiki did not think to listen. All he heard was the endless screams of his loved ones, coupled with his own sorrowful cries in the earlier stages of destruction. The stranger reached out to touch him, and Nishiki did not stir in the least. The only things his body knew how to feel were harmful contacts—fists, nails, knives, daggers, fangs, shoes, arrows, fire, poison, lightning—that left behind bruises and blood on his being, but did nothing beyond that blatant violence.

The stranger did everything to revive him, but Nishiki remained dead. His death was not physical, but everything else possible. His death was spiritual, mental, and emotional. What he was now was nothing of his former self. No, Nishiki—the all powerful chief of the fox tribe—had died  _long ago_.

His body remained behind, however, and suffered the consequences of dealing with whoever managed to stumble upon him this way. Friend or foe, ally or enemy, it did not matter anymore.

Nothing did.

The stranger's voice was clearer now. Nishiki listened, but only because he was physically listening and not actually  _hearing_ what they had to say. His ears twitched, probably, from being out of commission for so long since all the noises he heard up to this point were produced  _inside_  of his head, rather than outside. To hear anything beyond his own body and shell was strange and foreign, and every fiber of his being strained to make some semblance of  _understanding_ within him.

The stranger talked again. They did not sound so strange when they spoke, though.

"Nishiki," they muttered. "Nishiki, it's me."

"...M...e..." he echoed the word pitifully. Not that he truly comprehended what was really happening, but because he was a broken mirror that could only reflect shards of other people back onto themselves. His voice was sand and paper, scratching against his throat and burning his lungs.

He whimpered.

"Gods, I...I'm so sorry, Nishiki. Please, please, please  _forgive me._ This is all my fault. Everything is my fault."

"...Every...thing..." His body shivered at the syllables spoken, scolding their painstaking slowness and incoherency. It was a sign that the mirror was too cracked to function properly. He stopped talking for a moment.

The other person did  _not_ stop talking, however. Their tone shifted quickly, and the change was fast enough to give him  _whiplash._ "Look what they've done to you! T-This is..."

Nishiki's eyes were dead but they moved as if alive. They flickered to look at the person before him, but found nothing except a monochromatic expanse that hurt to look at. His chest seized up, his breath halted in his lungs, and his fingers twitched. All in response to the singular view in his eyes, someone that should not have meant anything to him, yet if the reactions were anything to go by, that person was definitely  _something_ to Nishiki.

He was something, something,  _something._ And the death that left his lips and tongue tried to live again, but it failed to become anything more than pathetic murmurs and lifeless wheezes. Nishiki shivered again.

 _No more,_ he thought to himself.  _I don't want this anymore._

"I'm gonna take care of you from now on. I won't let this ever happen again, okay...?"

"...O...kay..."

"Good, good. And, um, this is gonna sound weird, but I'm not fake." There was a pause, and for a moment no noise followed. Then a dull breath was taken, the only sign that the other person was there after all this time. "I'm real, okay? Nishiki, this is  _real._ I'm here to save you. I'm real."

Suddenly, the mirror cracked further. The splinters ran down the glass, shattering it and dislodging shards in every movement. The reflection was broken, unyielding, and distracting. Yet it still held itself there, as if to challenge the conventions that a broken mirror was worthless. Yes, cracked glass was usually meaningless, but some people in the world regarded things with different meaning.

_To others, you may very well be nothing but trash._

_But that person in front of you? He regards you as his treasure._

_And even if you don't believe it, you are_ worth _something._

Tears appeared, somehow. They collected at the corners of his eyes, only to well up the entire surface and spill over in bright streams. He could feel dirt sliding down his face along with the water. He felt the hard surface beneath him stain with these trailing tears. His chest seized up again.

A hand reached out to comfort him, but the touch was so gentle and feather-light that Nishiki could not suppress the whine that escaped his lips. He forgot that hands could be so  _kind_ and sweet. He was so used to them bearing down on his body with fervent force, to the point where he would splinter and break beneath his touch. He was so used to fingers concealing knives that he forgot there was supposed to be empty space between the digits. The hand that reached out to him faltered, as Nishiki's own hand shot up from his side and clung onto it for dear life.

More tears fell.

And for once, the shattered mirror that was his soul stopped reflecting baseless truths to the outside world. No, he did not merely show this person another glimpse of his fractured heart. Instead, he projected something new and bold—something  _bright_ and full of the  _life_ he felt so devoid of.

A single word escaped his lips in the most wretched and pleading way possible. Every letter, syllable, and sound that rolled off his tongue clattered to the floor, and skidded before the other like a fallen offering at a shrine. Dead eyes promised a future full of liveliness, and they fluttered upward to gaze at that light that had spilled into the room.

The black and white entity was an angel, now, with a halo of golden light surrounding their head. They were deserving of a word that Nishiki had not said in so long. They were deserving of that old, unused sound that had remained hidden in the ashes of Nishiki's heart, and in the ruins of his mind. That angel  _was_  an angel, and they deserved a prayer in their name.

_Their name, their name, their name. What was their name, again?_

"Nishiki—"

"—Flannel," he echoed a new word back at him. It was not the same word that the other had said, but hearing Nishiki's own name prompted a second name to follow it. Just as people put together the words  _salt and pepper, day and night, light and dark, love and hate_ _—_ the broken mirror of a being had paired his own name with someone else's, the familiarity lingering like a bad taste in his mouth. It was and automatic and natural response. It was innate and fatalistic all at once.

"Flannel," he repeated himself, voice turning to crushed dirt and shattered glass beneath laborious breaths. "Flannel," he said again, eyes consumed by tears and sadness to the point where they overflowed nonstop.

"Flannel," Nishiki said the name, with a near  _fraction_ of the longing he used to have for it. It was minute, tiny, but still  _noticeable._ If Flannel could just peel back the layers of unending agony from Nishiki's being, then he could see the old Nishiki again, smiling and laughing at the newfound revelation of being  _saved._

He could see him laugh at the revelation of being  _forgiven_.

...

"So, you got Nishiki back. Is he...?"

"He'll be fine...I think. I dunno myself, so I'm gonna dedicate myself to taking care of him. I can do that, right?"

"Yes, I think that will be fine. Take your time with this, Flannel."

"Um...thanks, Kamui. Listen, things are complicated right now, but when I get a chance, I wanna talk to you seriously."

"Y-You do?"

"Yeah. There's no use in still holdin' a grudge on you after this time. So..."

"That's very noble of you, Flannel."

"...Like I said, when I get a chance, we can talk more. Maybe."

"Alright, then I'll leave you to him. Rest up, okay? You worked nonstop on looking for him, you ought to take a break. Especially since he's sleeping now."

"If you say so. I'll do that soon, alright? Just go on ahead."

"I will. Good luck, Flannel."

"...Thanks. I'm gonna need it."

...

"Hey, Nishiki. I know you're sleepin' and I know you can't hear me right now. I just wanted to let you know that I'm really, really sorry. I'll tell you this again when you wake up, so you won't miss anything, but..."

"..."

"...Ugh. I still can't say it, for what it's worth. But just know this. Y'know those poachers we dealt with? Those thorns in our fucking backsides all this time? They're gone. All of them. Every last one of them, and for real this time. They're all killed or captured, but they'll never come back. They'll never go after us again. And it's not much, but it's  _something_ , y'know?"

"..."

"A-Anyway! That's what I wanted to say, Nishiki. When you wake up, I'll toughen up and apologize for...well,  _everything_ I guess. I've been a fuckin' jerk, especially to you. And you're so nice to me and I, I really  _missed you,_ Nishiki. I thought for sure you'd be dead, so I was ready for the worst. But then I saw you on that floor and you were breathing and everything! So I..."

"..."

"I'll tell you more when you wake up, okay? Take your time and whatever, but if you can I'd like you to wake up as soon as possible. I want to talk to you, alright? Take your time but also rush. I know that makes no sense, but I hate waiting. So please..."

"..."

"...I'm gonna go now, Nishiki. I'll see you in the morning. I promise."

"..."

"Good night, Nishiki."

_Good night, Flannel._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading all the way! I super appreciate it, and I appreciate you all for everything you do, including putting up with my inconsistent writing and editing! Anticipate future updates throughout the year, and know that my other Fire Emblem longfic, Lethality, will be updating as well!
> 
> Thanks again! Love you lots!


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